Daughter of the Moon
by Vivian Storm
Summary: Remus Lupin gave up his only child. Thirteen years later, he's back at Hogwarts to teach and comes face to face with his daughter - Hermione Granger. With danger everywhere, can he protect her without her discovering the truth? R&R please! H/Hr pairing.
1. Prologue

**Daughter of the Moon**

Welcome, everyone! My name's Vivian Storm, in case you haven't noticed already, and as you can see from my history this is my very first Harry Potter FanFic. It's been a long while since I've read the Harry Potter books, but I was reading this one FanFic and… well, that inspired me to write this one. Don't worry, though. I was just intrigued with this author's idea and thought maybe I could do something with it too (I made sure I could write it before I actually started). Other than that, J.K Rowling owns all of these characters and such - I'm just messing with them. Here's a lengthened summary of what this FanFic will be about…

Death. Danger. Remus Lupin was forced to give up his only daughter, his only living family, because of the danger surrounding him. Now, thirteen years later, Albus Dumbledore has brought Lupin back to Hogwarts to teach the famous Defense Against the Dark Arts class… and to come face to face with the daughter he thought he would never see again - Hermione Jean Granger. With Sirius Black and dementors on the loose, Lupin finds himself becoming extremely protective over his daughter… it's only a matter of time before she figures it out. What will happen then? Rated T for now, for language, but rating will probably change later… **DISCLAIMER**: (pay special attention to this!) Inspired by hermione snape's _All For You_, since hers follows basically the same storyline as mine. (It's an awesome story - if you don't like this one, you NEED to check out hers.)

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**Prologue**

"You're sure you can't find them? I thought you said he was staying home tonight to watch her!" hissed a rather tall Death Eater as he glared about the empty living room. The lights were off, and it was obvious that nobody had been here the entire evening.

Another Death Eater was present, equally frustrated. "That's what Potter was saying to his wife before the Dark Lord came in. They were planning on coming over here for dinner!"

"You're bloody joking!" roared his companion. "Did it ever occur to your obviously puny brain that they could have heard about it and fled?"

"Hey, you lot, keep it down!" hissed another voice. This one belonged to a female Death Eater, who was running down the stairs. "Don't be so put out, his bed's still warm! So is the blasted crib! They're around here somewhere, chaps, so we didn't come here for nothing. Spread out around the house and see if you can find them. Let's just kill them and be done with the whole damned thing. We have to send a message that all because the Dark Lord is gone, doesn't mean _we've_ disappeared. Get moving!"

Grumbling, the two others went about the house in search as the third returned upstairs to continue her investigations in the bedrooms. They disappeared from the front room, as it was _obvious_ that there was nobody hiding there.

The instant the two Death Eaters disappeared from sight, something shimmered in the back corner behind one of the armchairs. They plainly hadn't noticed or detected the Invisibility Spell that was being used before their very eyes, and it disappeared with the flourish of a wand.

The man that appeared was definitely not a Death Eater. His light, sandy brown hair hung over sharp hazel eyes, and his skin paled with the fear he felt. His sharp senses told him that all three Death Eaters were occupied tearing his house apart elsewhere, searching for him and the little bundle he held in his arms. The bundle was what he was afraid for, and the bundle was what he had strived to keep safe this past year-and-a-half. Which, at this point, was obvious that he had failed. The bundle in his arms, his daughter, was in danger right now.

And he would be damned if he let anything happen to her.

Clutching his daughter's warm body closer to his own for heat, the father considered which was the best way to go. It was obvious that he needed to escape this house, and soon, but he didn't know how. He very well couldn't Apparate with his infant daughter - considering as she was so young and something might go wrong… and the only option was to run. But how was he to do that when he had no means of…

Wait.

The man's eyes trailed to the small closet door that was across from him in the hall that housed his broom. Of course, James Potter, one of his best friends had always been a natural flyer… and he himself had never been too good at it. But at this point, it was his only option if he was going to get himself and his daughter out of this alive.

"Just stay quiet a little longer, sweetling," he murmured to the bundle of blankets. His daughter stared back up at him silently with trusting brown eyes.

He could see the trust within them, and nearly winced. _I hope I can keep that trust, sweet,_ he thought to himself as he gently edged out from behind the armchair. He paused a moment, using his heightened senses to make sure none of the Death Eaters would be able to detect his movement. One was in the kitchen around the corner, and the other was crashing through the screen door to the backyard. The third was upstairs, and he could hear her rummaging through their things. He gritted his teeth to know that some of those things were his daughter's.

Ever so carefully, the innocent man approached the broom closet, always making sure the Death Eaters weren't rushing to see what was moving in the front room. Everything was going perfectly, and he silently praised the heavens that his daughter was remaining quiet throughout this whole ordeal. He was blessed to have such a child.

But the instant he pulled open the broom closet, the hinges creaked and for a moment time froze. Then, in that same split second, all hell broke loose.

"OI!" shouted one of the Death Eaters, the one that had been in the kitchen. "LUPIN AND THE KID ARE STILL IN HERE!"

The father, Lupin, cursed, and suddenly his daughter started to cry as if she'd sensed something had gone wrong. As quickly as he could, Lupin grabbed his broom and made a mad dash for the front door. He thanked the heavens again that he lived in a wizarding neighborhood, so his abrupt take off on a broom wouldn't make much difference.

He slammed the front door behind him just in time as a curse came flying towards the pair of them. The curse itself exploded the door into pieces, causing the squirming daughter in his arms to shriek in fear at the loud noise.

"Shh, Hermione, sweetling," Lupin urged his child as he mounted his broom. More curses came flying out from the now destroyed doorway.

Hermione, the baby, however, was not to be calmed down. The instant Lupin took off from the ground, just as the Death Eaters came rushing out of the house, she started crying more fervently. Lupin found it extremely difficult to hold her and operate the broom at the same time, but somehow he managed it. If someone had asked him about it years later, he would have said it was only because of his determination to protect his daughter. To make sure nothing happened to her.

Curses flew by them in the air. Lupin had never been an exceedingly skilled flier, and most of the time he barely managed to get out of the way before a curse or hex flew past him. Hermione was shrieking her terror as the pair of them flew higher and higher out of reach of the spells coming from the Death Eaters. It wasn't until he had nearly gone through the clouds that he realized the Death Eaters had given up. Lupin breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"It'll be okay, sweetling," he murmured now to the squirming bundle he was only holding with one arm. "We're safe."

He stopped after saying that, and then began to think.

Were they really safe? If Death Eaters were still around, hunting for those who were either close to the Potters or seemed like easy targets, were they safe? Lupin knew that lot was relentless when it came to hunting people down, and if they were trying to track down him and his daughter… no. No, they weren't safe. He wasn't, and neither was Hermione.

Which brought him to another thought. Hermione was in much more danger than he had initially thought. The Potters were always the one to watch his daughter on the full moon, but now… He blinked at the pain of realizing his best friend was gone, and the fact that Sirius was gone too didn't help at all. There was nobody that could take her under their wing when he was… less than a man. And he knew very well that he couldn't leave her somewhere all alone, as she was only a very young child.

There was no solution.

What could he possibly do in this situation? How on earth would he be able to keep his only daughter, his only living relative, alive and safe and sound?

He glanced down as he flew out of the wizarding neighborhood. Muggle homes were all dark below, most of them gone to bed for the night. Lupin was jealous of them all - he wished he could be tucked in a warm safe bed too, knowing that his daughter was safe in the next room with no worries in their head.

Then, the idea came to him. A sickening, revolting, saddening, but wonderful idea. An idea that was impossible to consider, but so simple and easy and right at the same time.

He would have to give Hermione up. He would have to let his daughter live a stress-free life with Muggles who would take care of her and raise her as their own, where she wouldn't have to worry about Death Eaters or creatures like him. Where she would be safe.

It was the best thing he could give her now, no matter how much it pained him.

So, finding an indiscreet place to land, Lupin flew down to the ground and dismounted the broom quickly. Hermione's cries had been reduced to mere sniffles and whimpers, and he wrapped both arms around her now that they were on the ground. Before he could forget, he pulled out his wand and waved it at the broom, causing it to become invisible.

Lupin looked around, trying to see where exactly he had landed after thanking the heavens again that he and his daughter were safe for the time being.

He could see that he had landed in a small park, isolated from the rest of the world by a series of trees and fences. Lupin sighed, wondering what he would find outside this place. He knew he had to find a place for his daughter to go… but where? Were there any families nearby that would take her in? Were there any families that were looking for a child?

The young man struggled past shrubs and bushes, all the while trying to keep Hermione from going into hysterics again. He patted her gently, kissing her sandy brown curls, holding her close. He didn't have much time left with her, if his plan was going to work.

He gazed down at his daughter, trying to imagine a world where he didn't have her. He couldn't. Tears welled in his amber eyes, and he held back a sob as he pressed his daughter's small head to his chest. How could he leave her? He loved her so much, was so protective over her… he didn't ever want to let her go. Especially with the Death Eaters prowling about. For a second, he almost decided to screw his fears and keep her with him. But, Lupin knew that would be terribly selfish.

Hermione deserved better than living on the run, as it was obvious he would be doing for the next few months, if not years. She didn't deserve to be locked away somewhere every full moon while he was in a less-than-human state. She didn't deserve to be in danger all the time. If she lived with Muggles, she could have a life free of such things.

But that didn't make it any less hard.

Lupin searched the area for a house that looked like a family was inside. It seemed like everyone in the neighborhood had already gone to sleep. Perhaps there were no places here where Hermione could…

Wait. _There_.

He saw a house, with its front room lights still on, and a banner over the garage that said, 'Welcome to your first home, newlyweds!' Lupin smiled, and seemed to sense that these people would be perfect. He had no desire to meet them, of course, as it was best to keep his distance, but perhaps they would be interested…

As he approached, Lupin used his acute sense of hearing to see what was being discussed in that front room. One of the Muggles was on the phone, his deep voice reverberating throughout the entire room.

"Yes, yes, Mum. We're settled in just fine… No… No, I've told you she can't… We've already discussed this, Mum… We've tried to, but… Oh, honestly, when you think we tried it? … I have plenty of money to support a child, and I don't see why this is such a… She can't, Mum! … Because I love her, not because I wanted children… We… I've told you, Mum, we're going to the orphanage to… Why is that such a problem? … Oh, keep quiet, you old bat… Bah! Talking to you is like trying to talk sense to a mule… We're going to adopt a child, and that's that!"

Lupin heard the phone slam down.

He looked down at Hermione, who had quieted completely now and was staring up at him with those same trusting eyes. Tears welled up in his amber ones, and he kissed his daughter on the forehead, knowing this would probably be the last time he would ever see her.

"I love you, sweetling, and don't you ever forget it," he whispered, hugging her close. He breathed in her scent. It was warm and milky, like an infant's, but he could sense that mixture of chocolate and holly, like her mother's. There was only a hint of the forest musk in her scent that came from him, and Lupin kissed the side of his daughter's head now. How could he ever leave her like this?

"Darling, if you don't want to anger your mother…" came the voice of the Muggle woman inside the house.

"No. We'll go to the orphanage tomorrow, honey, don't worry about my mother," her husband, the one Lupin had initially heard, said reassuringly. "Shall we head upstairs?"

"In a moment," his wife answered. "I want to finish up this show, and then we can…"

The rest of her sentence was lost as Lupin gently set his daughter on their front porch step. He kissed her forehead one last time and pulled a piece of parchment and a magically inked quill from his robes. He hadn't remembered grabbing any… funny… but he had no time to consider it as he hastily scribbled a note down for his daughter's new parents. It was only by a stroke of luck he'd managed to find this place. Gently placing the folded note on top of his daughter's blankets, Lupin gently stroked Hermione's cheek with the back of his finger.

Oh, how he would miss her.

"Never forget I love you, sweetling," he whispered. "I always will. I wish I could be here for you, but this is for your own safety. Never forget that. Goodbye, Hermione. I love you." Blinking the tears rapidly away, he wiped them from his face and hastily pressed the doorbell before rushing off into the darkness of the bushes. That was the last time he would see his daughter for thirteen years.

He didn't even stay to watch as the newlywed couple opened up the door of their home to see the infant child beginning to sniffle on their front porch. He didn't listen to the mother's hysteric shriek for joy, or the father's gasp of delight at finding the child. He didn't stay to watch as Hermione's new parents opened the note and read through it.

Her name is Hermione. I couldn't take care of her because there was too much danger in my life. I pray you will take her in and raise her as your own. She deserves the best. When she gets old enough, tell her that I love her.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at each other after reading that note. There wasn't even a name on the paper. That was the night that Hermione became Hermione Jean Granger.

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_Thirteen Years Later_

"Remus, I'm glad you could come. I suppose you have guessed the reason as to why I've invited you here today."

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was looking at the exhausted werewolf over his half-moon spectacles with a small smile on his face.

Remus Lupin had not done so well over the past thirteen years. He looked practically unhealthy as he stood before the Headmaster. His sandy brown hair was messy and hung over his grim and troubled amber eyes. His skin was pale, and there were deep and dark shadows underneath his eyes that made it obvious that sleep often evaded him. His robes were torn and tattered, as if he hadn't had any new robes to put on for weeks.

"I've guessed, and I'm not teaching here, Dumbledore. Not under any circumstances," Remus told Dumbledore as he shook his head. His voice suddenly went weary and quiet. "I'm not going to risk her finding out."

But Dumbledore just sat back in his chair, folding his hands quite delicately in front of his nose. "But Remus, my dear friend, that is not the reason I am asking you to teach. I am asking you because, well, in case it has escaped your notice, but both Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers I've hired these past two years have either died or gone mad. I am running out of options, and it seems as though you are the best suitor for the job."

"Surely there are wizards and witches who have applied," Remus protested, still shaking his head. "Pick one of them to do it. Not me."

But Dumbledore merely stared at him, the smile still there. "Now, Remus, I simply do not understand why you are refusing my generous offer. Not only would I be offering you free room and board for an undefined number of terms, but there are also several other benefits. You would be paid, which many other employers would not wish to do because of your current state. And you would have the very chance you may have very well been waiting for, for the past thirteen years - a chance to meet and get to know your daughter," he pointed out.

"But why? Surely there are other wizards who would do a better job teaching the students?" Remus asked. He couldn't lie and say that the offer wasn't appealing, but only for one reason. He had only seen Hermione at a distanced glance once every couple of years. The chance to see her completely, _speak_ to her, teach her… it was almost too good to pass up…

Dumbledore didn't answer him, but only waited and watched as Lupin's thought process developed.

"Blast it," Remus muttered, running a hand through his dirty hair. "Well, when am I expected to report in? Or… when am I to start?"

Dumbledore chuckled, knowing the conversation would have ended up like this. "Remus Lupin, I am delighted to have you as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts." He stood, and led the startled man to the door. "I expect you and all of your belongings to be on the Hogwarts Express in a week's time. You remember the departure time, I am sure. Eleven o' clock, no later."

Remus smiled, but only slightly. "Thank you, Dumbledore, I suppose. But what about my… what about the full moon?"

"Oh, not to worry. Professor Snape happens to be very skilled at brewing a Wolfsbane potion, and I suppose it wouldn't be too difficult to have the same arrangements as you did when you were at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore looked expectant, his snowy eyebrows raised.

Remus was about to remind the Headmaster that he didn't exactly have the friends to contain him as he had when he was actually at Hogwarts, but decided against it. Dumbledore probably had something planned. "Thank you, again, Dumbledore," he replied with a respectful dip of the head. "You have no idea of how grateful I am to you."

"I can imagine," the old wizard said with a smile, before waving him off. "Now, off you go. Tut, tut. I _would_ like to get back to my knitting, as I've nearly finished a scarf that would be nice to send to an old friend of mine. Farewell!" And with this, Lupin left the office.

The instant he was outside, he rubbed his hands over his face. Just how was he going to manage facing his daughter without bursting into tears and taking her away where only he could talk to her so he could know just how much he had missed? How on _earth_ was he going to get through this?

Only time would tell.

* * *

**EOC**: Well, that's the beginning to Daughter of the Moon! I have the first chapter finished already, but I'm going to try and space it out until I finish the second chapter. I'm watching the Harry Potter movies as I do this - I just finished the first one. Gah! I can't get over how cute they were when they were that young! I just wanna hug them and take them home with me, you know what I mean? Haha, well, I suppose this is goodbye for now. Special thanks again to hermione snape, who let me follow the same idea! Remember, check out her story too! I _think_ it's on my alert list, but I'm not sure. If not, I have to go look for it. Thanks again, and please review! I like knowing how I did.


	2. 01: Train Ride

**DISCLAIMER:** The idea for this story originated with hermione snape's _All for You_. Certain passages from this chapter are vaguely (I won't copy it word for word, as I don't really like doing that) imitating actual passages from J.K Rowling's _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_. (Mainly just the quotes. What they're saying is mostly coming from the book.) I also twist around the narration to make it Hermione's point of view, and I cut out parts from the book that aren't really needed, and added bits and pieces to sew together Hermione and Lupin's cute little father-daughter story. All of these characters are Rowling's, and hers alone. I'm just messing with their heads.

I would also like to specially thank those who reviewed, and even thank those who just put this on their alerts or favorites (there was surprisingly a lot - I didn't expect so many alerts or favorites). I present you with the next chapter of Daughter of the Moon! (More like the first one.)

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**Chapter I**

"If he doesn't hurry up, he'll be late for the train!" remarked a very bushy-haired girl, whose wide chocolate brown eyes were looking at her best friend outside, where he was talking to a man called Mr. Weasley, the father of the boy who was also waiting with her at the door to the train. "He can't miss it, not again!"

"Calm down, Hermione, it's not like my Dad will let him miss the Hogwarts Express," her companion scoffed, looking down at her over his nose from bright blue eyes.

When the train began to move, Hermione began to panic. "Oh, goodness, Ron, the train will leave without him! How can I calm down if my best friend isn't coming to school with us? Do you think they'll expel him? Or… or… or do you think they'll make him retake the year? Oh, but that would be just as dreadful, if he couldn't go to the same classes as us! What if…"

She didn't have time to finish her last sentence, for Ron had hastily flung open the compartment door so Harry could leap inside. The pair of them shut the door behind him before Hermione flung her arms around Harry.

"I was so worried you weren't going to make it!" she exclaimed as Harry laughed and gently extricated her arms from around his torso.

"Don't worry, Hermione. I'm here now, aren't I?" he chuckled. Then, the three of them, and Ron's little sister, Ginny, all stayed to wave at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron's parents, until they had disappeared around the corner. Then, Harry's expression melted, and gave way to solemn worry. "I need to talk to you in private," he murmured as the train began going faster.

Hermione became worried as Ron waved at his little sister to leave. "Go away, Ginny," he said.

Ginny huffed and glared at her brother. "Oh, that's nice," she grumbled before heading off.

So the trio set off down the train corridor, searching for a compartment that was empty. They were going to give up before they came to one at the very end of the train, in which there was only a sickly-looking man with sandy brown hair dozing by the window. They looked at each other, a tad confused, as they'd never seen another adult on the train before besides the witch who offered them sweets from a trolley. Silently, together they decided that here was as good a place as any, and so they went inside.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron whispered as they sat down as far away from the window as they could.

Hermione answered immediately. "Professor R.J Lupin," replied in the same hushed voice.

Ron glared at her. "How d'you know that?"

"It's on his case." As Harry and Ron looked up to see what she was talking about, Hermione gazed at the man's face. He was asleep, no doubt, but she couldn't help but think that his face was so… familiar… Maybe from a dream? Or a nightmare? Hermione's face slowly turned into a frown the more she studied him. Why did he seem… so…

"Wonder what he teaches?" Ron asked. He too was studying the professor now.

"That's obvious," Hermione told him. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The three exchanged knowing looks. There were rumors flying around that said the job was jinxed, since both professors they'd had the past two years only lasted for a year.

Ron glanced at Professor Lupin again, a doubting expression on his face. "Well, I hope he's up to it. He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he?" He turned back to Harry and Hermione, who were sitting side by side across from him. "Anyway, Harry, what were you going to tell us?"

Hermione hardly listened as Harry explained what Mr. Weasley had been talking about before the train had taken off. She was paying attention to Lupin, her eyes narrowed in slight confusion and thought. She tried sifting through her memories and such, trying to figure out where she had seen him before. Perhaps she had seen him before at a diner, or maybe walking around her neighborhood a few times. She would have to ask him where he lived, to see if what she was thinking was true. She had never asked a professor such a personal question before, and Hermione hoped he wouldn't be too shocked to answer her question.

She shoved the matter from her mind as she turned her attention back to Harry's tale. What she heard made her cover her mouth with her hands in fright. When she lowered them, she whispered urgently, "Sirius Black escaped to come after _you_? Oh, Harry, you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, promise me…"

Harry cut her off. "I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds _me_."

"How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" Ron's voice was shaky as he asked the question. Then he continued, as Harry began to look uncomfortable with their reactions. "No one knows how he got out of Azkaban. No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."

Hermione was genuinely worried, her thoughts about the sleeping professor forgotten. "But they'll catch him, won't they? I mean they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too…"

"Hey, what's what noise?" Ron suddenly asked.

Hermione looked around the compartment at the same time Harry did. There was a faint whistling somewhere within the compartment, but they couldn't find where it was coming from.

"It's coming from your trunk, Harry," Ron volunteered, and stood up to look through Harry's suitcase. After a moment of rummaging, he pulled out Harry's Sneakoscope, which was spinning very fast in Ron's palm and glowing like a shining star.

Hermione's eyes lit up intrigued. She stood up to get a better look at it. "Is that a Sneakoscope?" she questioned.

Ron snorted. "Yeah… mind you, it's a real cheap one. It went haywire just as I was tying to Errol's leg to send it to Harry." Errol was the Weasley family owl, an elderly bird that often got confused about his sense of direction.

"Were you doing something untrustworthy at the time?" Hermione smirked.

"No!" Ron protested. Then he looked guilty. "Well… I wasn't _supposed_ to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys… but how else was I supposed to get Harry's birthday present to him?"

"Stick it back into the trunk," Harry said anxiously as the Sneakoscope began to whistle louder. "It'll wake up the professor."

All three of them looked to Professor Lupin, who stirred restlessly. All three of them froze until he just rolled his head, settled down, sniffled, and continued to sleep.

The train-ride continued on, as it continued to head north to Hogwarts. Hermione noticed that as time progressed, the weather outside became darker and darker as if a heavy storm were blowing in. Students were running up and down the corridors outside their compartment, shrieking and chasing each other as Hermione, Ron, and Harry talked quietly about less grim things. They discussed Hermione and Ron's summer, and Harry's. Hermione tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of her head about the sleeping professor, but it kept growing stronger by the minute.

Precisely at one o' clock, the plump old woman who sold the sweets came by their compartment.

As Harry bought some food for the three of them, Ron looked at the professor. "D'you think we should wake him up?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, he looks like he could do with some food."

Hermione silently volunteered and stood to approach the professor. Her steps were cautious, and she gently put a hand on his shoulder to wake him. She felt him tense underneath her hand, but he didn't wake. "Er… Professor?" she asked, trying to get him to stir. "Excuse me… Professor?" Lupin remained still and tense as she gently shook his shoulder.

"Oh, don't worry, dear," the old witch assured her as she gave Harry a bunch of Cauldron Cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes up, you can tell him I'm up front with the driver." And she left them be, shutting the compartment door behind her as Hermione took her seat and Harry offered her a cake.

"I suppose he _is_ asleep?" Ron inquired when the trolley woman was out of sight. "I mean - he hasn't died, has he?"

"No, no, he's breathing all right," Hermione answered him as she nibbled on the cake. She wondered why he had tensed under her touch, if he was really asleep. She decided not to tell Ron or Harry about that, though.

While the sleeping Lupin wasn't much company-wise, being in the same compartment with the Professor definitely had its uses.

For midafternoon, Draco Malfoy and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, appeared at their compartment door. Malfoy and Harry had been enemies ever since the first day of first year, and the disgruntled Slytherin often enjoyed picking on Hermione and her friends whenever they had the chance. Crabbe and Goyle, his two henchmen, as it were, were both tall and well muscled. Much more so than Malfoy, at least.

"Well, look who it is," Malfoy observed with a lazy drawl. "Potty and the Weasel. And miss Mudblood, too." Crabbe and Goyle laughed sluggishly. Nobody noticed that the supposedly sleeping professor had tensed, or how his hand had suddenly appeared, sliding down to grip his wand from his pockets.

"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," Malfoy snickered. "Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up quickly, hand flying to his wand, as Malfoy laughed. In the corner, all of the students heard a growl-like snort from Lupin.

"Who's that?" demanded Malfoy as he instinctively took a step back as he spotted the Professor.

"New teacher." Harry smirked as he too rose to his feet, unconsciously taking a stand in front of Hermione, who was doing her best to ignore Malfoy and his insults. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"

Their enemy's eyes narrowed, and Malfoy huffed in dissatisfaction. He wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight if a teacher was around, even if they were sleeping. "Come on, you two," he grumbled to Crabbe and Goyle, and together they stalked off down the corridor.

Harry and Ron sat down, and Ron growled under his breath. "I'm not going to take any crap fro Malfoy this year," he declared. "And I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get a hold of his head and _rip it off_." He made a violent gesture with his hands as Hermione shushed him.

"_Ron_! Be careful."

All three looked at Professor Lupin, who was still sound asleep.

The weather got worse as the ride continued, and the sky continued to grow impossibly darker until lanterns flickered to life throughout the corridors and compartments. The wind howled outside and rattled the train as rain began to pelt down at the windows. And, surprisingly, the trio noted that the Professor was still sleeping.

"We have to be almost there," Ron commented as he tried to lean over the Professor to look out the now completely night-black window. He couldn't see a thing, and almost as soon as he said it, the train began to slow down. Hermione shifted in her seat uneasily, as if she could sense that not all was well. She wrinkled her nose as an almost rotten smell reached her senses, and she shivered.

"Can you two smell that?" she asked quietly.

Harry looked at her, concerned, as Ron snorted. "Well, I'm starving. I don't want to miss the feast, so we best be going."

"But we can't possibly be there yet," Hermione objected, glancing at her watch. The smell became stronger, and she resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands. It wasn't a nasty smell anymore, but rather a cold sensation that was stinging her nose, and even her eyes now.

"Then why are we stopping, then, d'you reckon?"

The train became slower and slower until finally it stopped with a sudden jolt. Bangs and thumps could be heard throughout the train as students and luggage alike either fell of racks or seats. Suddenly the sound of the wind and rain was much louder than before, and Hermione whimpered at the sudden overpowering of her senses. She covered her face in her hands, and Harry and Ron looked at each other, concerned.

"I'll see what's happening," Harry assured his friends, giving Hermione an awkward pat on her shoulder before poking his head out the compartment door. All up and down the corridor, other students were doing the same. Without warning, all the lanterns were doused and the train was left in complete darkness. Hermione shrieked her terror, as several other students did throughout the train.

"What's going on?" came Ron's voice from somewhere behind Harry.

"Ouch, Ron, that was my foot!" Hermione squeaked. "Oh, what an awful smell…"

Hermione huddled in her seat, and blushed when she felt someone's, Harry's, hand brush her leg. She felt the seat next to her dip down as her best friend sat beside her again. Neither of them mentioned anything as Harry sat down, and momentarily she was glad that the train was as dark as it was. "D'you think we've broken down?" he asked his friends curiously.

"Dunno…"

There was movement in the compartment and Hermione glanced up to see the faint black outline of Ron going to the window. He gulped. "There's something moving out there," he whispered. "I think there are people coming aboard, guys…"

Their compartment door opened at that moment, and someone tripped and fell over Harry's legs. Hermione couldn't stop whimpering as the scent became impossibly stronger. It was more than she could handle. She gripped the sides of her head as someone started blabbering,

"Sorry… d'you know what's going on out there? Ouch… sorry again."

"Hullo, Neville," Hermione heard Harry say. She clenched her eyes shut, and suddenly she couldn't handle being in here any longer.

"I… I think I'm going to go ask the driver what's going on," she murmured, her voice hoarse. Her head began pounding and throbbing as she stood, and she attempted to make her way past Harry, but she ran into someone and she squealed as she went down. She hit the ground, hard, and it was no help whatsoever to the pain in her head.

"Who's that?" Hermione managed to groan.

"Who's _that_?" came a mirroring response.

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

Hermione grunted as she shifted herself into a sitting position. She held her head as she murmured, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I _was_ looking for Ron-"

"Well… well, come in and sit down…" Hermione sighed as she clenched her eyes shut again. She felt like every pore in her body was being penetrated by this scent, this coldness that chilled her to the bone. Why couldn't anyone else feel it? She knew Ron wasn't this tolerant to pain… She almost didn't hear it as Harry growled,

"Don't sit down here, Ginny! _I'm_ here!"

"Ow!" Neville exclaimed.

"Quiet!" This was a new, hoarse voice from the corner of the compartment, and Hermione whimpered from the harshness of it. Everything was getting to be too much. Even her ears were extra sensitive now. "Silence, please!" The voice was hoarse still, and soft. It seemed as though Professor Lupin had woken up at last, and Hermione could distinctively hear him moving about, and the pounding of the hearts of her friends. Everyone was silent, even Hermione, who was struggling to hold in her whimpers from her position on the floor.

She heard him mutter a spell, she didn't really pay attention to which, and suddenly the compartment was filled with a silver light. It appeared to be coming from a flame-like ball floating above Lupin's hand. It illuminated his coarse, haggard features, but for the first time Hermione could see his eyes. They were a deep amber, and excessively alert. Nobody seemed to notice that for a moment, as his eyes were trained on her.

Meanwhile, Remus Lupin was staring, aghast, at his daughter. She was huddled on the floor, holding her head as if it were about to fall apart. He longed to go to her, as he knew this was a side effect of her heritage, and he sharply looked up. If she was reacting this way, then he knew for certain what was boarding the train.

"Stay where you are, all of you," he murmured, and he began making his way to the door. He was about to step over his daughter when a dementor itself suddenly appeared at the door.

Hermione shrieked, and he heard a cold gasp from somewhere behind him. The familiar coldness seeped through Lupin's veins, and he clenched his teeth as he listened to Hermione's scream. He knew that, as a half-werewolf, she could sense the dementor's presence more so than anybody here. He knew the feeling quite well - when he had first encountered a dementor as an adolescent werewolf, the experience had been overpowering to him. He could only guess that the same thing was happening to his daughter.

As he fumbled for his wand, Lupin watched in horror as the dementor lifted its hand towards Harry Potter, and took in a sucking breath as it began to pull the happiness from Harry's system. The familiar coldness swept over him as he finally found his wand in his back pocket, and snarled as he heard Hermione's constant whimpering. He had to protect her from this beast… and her companion.

"None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks," he roared at the dementor as Harry slumped from his seat onto his daughter. "_Go_!" And the silvery wisps shot from his wand, sending the dementor flying away down the corridor and off the train. The lights flickered back on again.

He glanced down. Hermione was at his feet, panting in relief as the coldness swiftly left her. She came to her senses to find Harry was lying unconscious in her lap. She shrieked.

"Calm down!' Lupin told her, though his voice was too soft to be demanding. He had to restrain himself from calling her 'sweetling'. "Now, now, help him up."

"I… I…" Hermione blabbered as she began shaking uncontrollably. "I can't."

Lupin sighed and looked around the compartment. His eyes fell on the other three students gazing up at him with awe in their eyes. "Come on. One of you help me pull Harry onto the seat."

The redheaded boy, Ron, he assumed, stood up immediately. He came to Lupin's side, and together they managed to drag Harry off of Hermione and back onto the seat, where Ginny and the other boy, Neville, scooted out of the way so Harry could lie down comfortable. Harry groaned.

Before Lupin turned to him, however, he observed his daughter. He, of course, had woken up the instant he'd smelt her scent enter the compartment. He remembered it from all those years ago. There was no more hint of that milky, baby smell. She smelled of holly and chocolate, with a faint hint of the forest musk he knew belonged to him. She stared up at him with her wide eyes, her mother's eyes, and her sandy brown hair just like his glinted in the sudden light as lanterns began flickering on around the train.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he bent down to examine her.

"I… I think so," she murmured, and Lupin found himself taken aback by her voice. She sounded so much like her mother. Like Vivian. "It's just… I… I've never…"

"That's all very well, you're all right now," Lupin said, though it was more reassurance to himself than anything else. Gingerly, and making sure he didn't touch her skin, he helped his daughter to gingerly sit across from Harry.

And as he did so, the boy began to stir. His eyes flickered open.

Hermione was instantly on her feet again, hovering over him with Ron in concern. Hermione gently began patting his face.

"Harry! Harry, are you alright?"

"W-what?" Harry came to finally, and Hermione let out a sigh in relief. She watched him as he took in his surroundings, and he gently pushed his glasses up his nose. She noticed that he had broken into a sweat while passed out, and she was about to do something about it when Ron asked,

"Are you okay?" His voice was nervous.

"Yeah." Hermione watched Harry look to the door, where the creature had been standing moments before. "What happened? Where's that… that thing? Who was the one screaming?"

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other. "Hermione was whimpering mate, maybe you heard that?"

"No, no, it was a woman screaming," Harry said, waving Ron off. "Like… like a grown woman. It couldn't have been Hermione. Who else screamed in here?"

"Nobody," Hermione answered, nervously, as Harry looked around to see Neville and Ginny gazing at him in concern.

"But I swore I could have heard-"

A loud snap brought everyone's attention back to Professor Lupin. He was breaking off pieces of a large chocolate bar, and he handed a considerably sized chunk to everyone in the compartment. "Here," he said to everyone. "Eat this. It'll help with the nerves."

To Hermione he handed a different piece of candy, one wrapped in white plastic. "This is for you," Lupin muttered, avoiding looking her in the eye. "That dementor's presence effects a few people more than anyone else physically. This'll help your system get back in order."

"Was that what that thing was?" Harry questioned. He hadn't taken a bite of the chocolate.

"Yes. A dementor from Azkaban," Lupin said. When he noticed nobody was eating their candy, he sighed impatiently. "Honestly, eat it. It helps. I need to speak with the driver of the train, if you'll excuse me…"

"But, wait, Professor, how did you know the dementor-" Hermione tried to ask, but Lupin was already gone before she could finish her question. They didn't see the Professor for the rest of the train ride.

* * *

**EOC:** Thanks, everyone, for reading! I hope you'll review! I know - that green little button looks mighty tempting, doesn't it? Haha, the next chapter will be posted soon. That one's finished too. Haha, but I probably won't post the second 'til the third's finished... 'cause I'm weird like that. But know that updates might happen slower now that school has started back up for me. Bah. Oh, well, I hope to see you all again soon! - Viv


	3. 02: Something Else to Ponder

**DISCLAIMER:** The idea came from hermione snape's _All For You_. Certain passages imitate (not copy) _Prisoner of Azkaban_. I've twisted a lot of things around to make it from either Hermione or Lupin's point of view, and I've added or taken out tidbits here and there to serve my purposes. All these characters still belong to Rowling! (This first scene isn't in the books - it's in between chapters 5 and 6 of _PoA_.) I also request that if you find any grammatical or spelling mistakes in this chapter, forgive me… I was too lazy to read through it and I wanted to update this for you guys. So here you are!

~*----------*~

**Chapter II**

Hermione sat on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room later that evening. The instant they'd arrived at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall had been waiting for them. She'd called for Harry and Hermione to follow her, and then she'd promptly brought them to the hospital wing to be checked over. She'd explained that Professor Lupin had sent an owl ahead of the train that told of Harry's and Hermione's states, and Madame Pomfrey had checked them both over before giving each of them a clean bill of health.

But it was what had happened after the hospital wing that excited Hermione. She was extremely interested in taking several courses, as she'd confessed to the Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall had only smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement and handed her a small device called a Time Turner. She'd also proceeded to hand Hermione a small packet of instructions for using it, which Hermione planned on reading the instant she got into her dormitory.

"What d'you reckon those dementors were doing on the train?" Ron asked as he plopped down into an armchair. "I mean, why d'you think they went to our compartment?"

Harry was rubbing his temple, obviously in distress. "I wish I knew," he confessed quietly as he paced in front of the fire. "I'm just glad Professor Lupin was there."

"Me too," Hermione amended, hugging her knees to her chest anxiously.

The two boys looked at her. "What are you so glad for? It's not like the dementor was attacking you too, now was it?" Ron scoffed. He raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

Hermione scowled in return. "It very well felt like it!" she exclaimed. "Or did you not notice me on the compartment floor with my head in my hands? Because I felt like I was about to die down there! All because you may not have noticed doesn't mean it didn't happen. If Professor Lupin hadn't have been there, I probably would have gone mad. Of course I'm grateful he was there to help Harry too." She glared at Ron sharply.

Ron huffed, while Harry, however, looked intrigued. "I noticed you were in pain like that," Harry commented. He perched on the arm of the sofa on which Hermione sat. "What… what was happening to you?"

Hermione sighed, hugging her knees even tighter to her chest. "It… it felt like every part of me was about to explode. At first, I… at first, I could smell it. Then it began to sting my eyes, and soon my entire body was feeling it. I felt like a human volcano! Nothing like that's ever happened before."

Harry considered this. "Maybe the dementors effect you too," he remarked, looking rather curious.

"Obviously," muttered Hermione. She stood abruptly, and both of the boys looked at her, surprised. "I'm heading off to bed. I've got a terrible headache. I'll see you both in the morning?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry answered, eyebrows raised.

"Come along, Crookshanks." Hermione bent down to pick up her new, fluffy orange cat Crookshanks, and headed up the stairs to her dormitory. The cat shifted its weight around in her arms restlessly, and the cat hissed at Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, before Hermione shushed him and began ascending the steps.

Ron looked to Harry anxiously, and raised his eyebrows. He leaned in close, and murmured, "There's something bloody wrong with that cat. Every time that thing gets near Scabbers, it starts going mad."

"It's a cat, Ron," Harry observed as Hermione disappeared up the spiral staircase to the girls' dormitory. "Cats don't like rats, it's kind of a known fact. Hermione can't do anything about that." He shrugged carelessly.

"Figures you'd pick her side," Ron huffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded just as Professor McGonagall suddenly peeped her head into the common room. She spotted Ron and Harry and waved them away.

"Off to bed with you, Potter. You too, Weasley. I won't have Gryffindors falling asleep tomorrow in my class. Good night." And with that, she disappeared again.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, shrugged, and did as she requested.

~*----------*~

The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione gather in the common room before heading off to breakfast. As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione saw Draco Malfoy doing a horrible impression of swooning and fainting at the Slytherin table. She realized it was an impression of Harry passing out on the train as a roar of laughter arose around him. She huffed and patted Harry's shoulder reassuringly.

"Ignore him," she said, almost pleadingly. She was walking right behind Harry, and could see the way Harry's back muscles bunched and tensed at being teased. "Just ignore them, Harry, it's not worth it…"

She was cut off by the sharp, whining voice of Pansy Parkinson, a rather nasty Slytherin girl who reminded Hermione of a pug. "Hey, Potter!" she shrieked. "Potter! The dementors are coming! _Woooooo_, they're going to get you!" And everyone started laughing again.

Hermione sighed impatiently as she took a seat next to Harry at the Gryffindor table, as he had sat down next to George Weasley.

George handed Harry, Hermione, and Ron pieces of parchment. "New third year schedules," George explained and Hermione eagerly looked at hers as he asked, "What's up with you, Harry?"

Hermione looked up to glare over at the Slytherin table just as Ron gave the explanation. "Malfoy," he said, rolling his eyes.

George glanced at Hermione, and then followed her gaze just as Malfoy was once again doing the fainting impression as his fellow Slytherins laughed in cruel delight.

"That little git," George growled, and shook his head. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down on our end of the train." He grinned now, and looked across the table at his twin. "Came running into our compartment, didn't he Fred? Crying like a little baby, he was."

"Nearly wet himself," amended Fred to Hermione's delight. She giggled at the thought.

"Although…" George looked thoughtful. "I wasn't too happy myself, come to think of it. They're horrible things, those dementors…" He shuddered.

"Sort of freeze your insides," Fred agreed.

Harry bent in low over the table and Hermione sighed in sympathy as he murmured, "But you didn't pass out though, did you?" He didn't look too happy with himself, and Hermione was about to say something in encouragement when George beat her to it.

"Forget it, Harry," George told him with a smile. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred?" His twin nodded as George continued. "And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking… They suck the happiness out of a place, them dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there because of it." He nodded in affirmation, and Harry gulped, not looking reassured or comforted in the least. In fact, he was beginning to pale at the thought of Azkaban…

Fred thought it fit to intervene. "Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?" He was grinning.

Harry definitely started looking cheerful again, and Hermione went back to examining her schedules. She unconsciously slipped her hand into her pocket to gently stroke the device McGonagall had given her last night. It would most definitely be of some use today, she had no doubt. After tucking into bed, she had read the instructions through at least three times, and was sure she knew how to work the little contraption.

She noticed everyone was looking at her to start a conversation. She brightened. "Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," she offered in a happy tone. Her eyes remained on her schedule.

Ron had gotten up to get some hash browns that George wasn't handing over. He glanced over her shoulder and frowned. "Hermione," he pointed out, "they've messed up your schedule. Look - they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. I mean, there isn't enough _time_ for all that."

Hermione huffed. "I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," said Ron, beginning to laugh a little, "see this morning? You've got Divination, Muggle Studies, _and_ Arithmancy all at nine o' clock." By the end of that statement, he looked disbelieving. "Blimey, Hermione, I know you're good, but nobody is that good. I mean, how do you expect to be in three classes at once?" He snickered.

"Don't be silly." Hermione glared at him. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once. That's impossible."

"Well, then-"

"Could you pass the marmalade, Harry?"

"But-"

"Ron, what's it to you if my schedule's a bit full?" snapped Hermione, glaring up at her redheaded friend. "I told you before, I've fixed it all with McGonagall. Everything will be fine."

She didn't understand why Ron always had to know what she was up to. He was always sticking his nose into her business, where it didn't belong. Not to mention that now she had Crookshanks, he was equally vicious towards her cat because it constantly went after his silly pet rat. She snorted at the thought of that ridiculous little rodent. It would die soon anyway, she was willing to bet. It had been alive for… what, twelve years? It was a strangely long lifespan, and she was sure that rats didn't lie that long…

Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice her and her friends' dear friend Hagrid approaching the Gryffindor table. Last night, it had also been announced that Hagrid was the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, which was another new course for the trio this year.

"All righ'?" Hagrid asked as he paused by their table. Hermione jumped at the sudden booming voice and looked up at the games keeper and now Professor. "Yer in my first ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready… Hope it'll be all right… Me, a teacher… honestly…" His face had turned bright red with pride as he grinned at his young friends before heading up to the staff table.

"Wonder what he's been getting ready?" Ron questioned out loud, and there was anxiety in his voice. Hermione could understand. Things that Hagrid loved were usually never very… pleasant, for other people. She only hoped that he hadn't brought something dangerous to the school.

As breakfast continued, Hermione found herself looking up at the staff table quite often. Professor Lupin sat among the other teachers, but he didn't look as if he was enjoying himself. She watched him carefully as he only picked through his food, hardly ever eating any of it. She also didn't miss how he often avoided looking over at the Gryffindor table, her table, and she couldn't imagine why. Perhaps she was reading too much into this whole thing. She didn't even know why her eyes were drawn to him in the first place…

"We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of the North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there," came Ron's voice, and Hermione looked up to see him and Harry getting ready to go. Hastily stuffing her schedule into her schoolbag, Hermione stood up with her friends and together they left the Great Hall.

She didn't notice that Professor's Lupin's eyes were following her rather protectively all the way out.

The journey to Divination class was long and tiresome - Ron was about to give up looking for it and skip class when Hermione finally managed to get directions from one of the many paintings nearby. Together she, Harry, and Ron all headed up the long winding staircase leading up into the Divination classroom.

~*----------*~

Transfiguration class, one of Hermione's favorite courses. The device McGonagall had given her the night before had worked splendidly, and thanks to it, Hermione had been in three classes already - while Ron and Harry had only been in one. She was quite pleased with herself, but found herself distracted as she kept glancing at Harry worriedly.

Divination class, as ridiculous as it had been, was the cause of Hermione's distress. The rather eccentric Professor Trelawney had predicted Harry's death, and it seemed as though Hermione wasn't the only one concerned. Throughout the class, students kept glancing back at Harry to make sure he didn't drop dead, as if he would. Nobody was listening as McGonagall lectured them about Animagi, and hardly anyone noticed when she herself transformed into a spectacled tabby cat.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" the befuddled Professor asked once she had transformed back into her human self. She adjusted her glasses and gazed at her students with a firm eye. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got any applause from the class."

Everybody looked at Harry again, but nobody said anything. Hermione rolled her eyes (_honestly, _they were all being so ridiculous), and raised her hand.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said as McGonagall came round to their table. "We've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and…"

"Ah. Of course." Professor McGonagall snorted and shook her head. "There is no need to say anymore, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everybody looked at her as if she were crazy.

Hermione nudged Harry and he sighed. "Me," Harry muttered.

"I see. Then you ought to know, Potter, that Sibyl Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she's arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way to get a class's attention, I presume. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues…" Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared, and she continued. "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I won't conceal from you that I have no patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and as Professor Trelawney claims…"

The Professor sighed and shook her head, but then smiled down at Harry. "Well, you look in excellent health to me, Potter," she observed, "so you will excuse me if I don't let you off of homework tonight. Although, I assure you that if you die by the time class resumes tomorrow, you need not hand it in."

Hermione laughed heartily. Professor McGonagall was always one of her favorite teachers, as she was one of the few with actual sense. But, to her irritation, Hermione could see that not everyone was convinced by Professor McGonagall's reassurance. She could see that Ron was still worried. She rolled her eyes and began to pay attention again.

When class finally let out, Hermione was the only one who had taken a good amount of notes and wasn't panicked about the parchment-length essay to write on the properties of the Animagi. As they walked down to lunch together in the Great Hall, Ron was still worried. But Hermione chose to ignore him as she helped herself to some stew and glanced at her schedule for the afternoon.

There was Care of Magical Creatures, and she checked to make sure she wouldn't have to use her device again. No, the next and last time she would have to use her contraption was to double up Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes on Friday.

She glanced up at the staff table. Sure enough, Professor Lupin was sitting there barely even nibbling his food. And just like the night before and at breakfast, he was avoiding looking anywhere near the Gryffindor table. Hermione frowned - what on earth was wrong with him? She could also see him running his hands over his face. He looked even wearier than he had yesterday on the train.

"Hermione, we'd best get going." Harry was behind her, as Ron had already disappeared. "Care of Magical Creatures class will be starting in twenty minutes - and you know it takes us at least five to get down to Hagrid's. I think we should be early to give him our support."

Hermione nodded, surprised at all the time that flew by, and looked down to be disappointed that she'd hardly eaten any of her lunch. With a sigh, she gathered her things and slung her bag over her shoulder. She took one last look at the staff table. She caught Professor Lupin staring at her, and for a moment chocolate brown met amber and she began to remember him, remember him as…

"Come on, or do you want to be late to Hagrid's first lesson?" Harry questioned from behind her.

Hermione jumped, and turned around to try and smile at her best friend before following him out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds. Harry kept at her pace stride for stride, and looked down at her through his circular glasses.

"Something bothering you, Hermione? You look like you're thinking… well, more than usual, anyway," observed Harry, a smile breaking out on his face. "And please don't tell me you're thinking about my so-called death omen from Professor Trelawney. If I hear one more person mention that…"

"No, no, no," Hermione murmured, more to herself than anything else. "It's just…" Her voice trailed off.

Harry looked at her, concerned. "You've seemed a bit off today. Nothing's happened, has it? It's the first day of term - you're usually thriving off of all this new-class excitement."

Hermione shrugged. "It's just, I can't help but notice that there's something different about Professor Lupin…"

"You _have_ been staring at him during all of lunch."

Red tinged Hermione's cheeks. "Oh, was it really that obvious?" she asked, feeling embarrassed.

"No, no… wait, you haven't got, like… a _crush_ on him, do you? 'Cause, Hermione, that's really sort of wrong, you know, since he's a professor and all…" said Harry.

"Oh, no!" Red flooded Hermione's face now. "No, no, I don't have a liking for him at all!" she shrieked. "It's just… well, I mean, there's something odd about him and I want to find out what it is! Ever since I met him on the train yesterday, he seemed… well, he knew that there had been something wrong with me when the dementor came in."

"Everyone was affected when the dementor came in, Hermione…"

Hermione was already shaking her head. "No, he knew it effected me _differently_. You… it made you feel like you would never be happy again, like it's supposed to. I didn't feel any of that… I just felt this horrible coldness all through my body. And the smell was horrible… it stung my nose, and I thought it was going to fall off…"

"That's odd," noted Harry. "Why would you feel that way?"

"I don't know," Hermione answered, feeling practically miserable. She _hated_ not knowing something, especially when it had to do with her. In fact, she'd never _not_ known something about herself before. And it was really beginning to bother her… and make her scared, but she didn't want to admit something like that to Harry. "I think Lupin knows, which is why I think something's strange."

Harry wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, and Hermione was surprised to find that it actually felt… well, it felt nice. She smiled. "Well, Hermione, you're the smartest witch I know. I don't doubt that you'll figure out what's going on eventually."

He looked away, and didn't see Hermione flush a bright pink.

Then, she blinked rapidly. What was _that_ blush all about? She sighed. Just something else to ponder.

* * *

EOC: There's the second chapter! Finishing up the third, as we speak. I think it's going to be weekly updates from here on out, maybe with a few chapters in between. During the school week I hardly have time to write, and this weekend I had a party to go off to and I probably would have updated yesterday if it weren't for that. Oh, well! I'm here now, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review! See you next time. - Viv


	4. 03: Boggart and Frustration

**DISCLAIMER:** Check the previous two chapters. Inspired by hermione snape's _All For You_ and J.K Rowling owns the characters. Short and sweet.

Haha, this is the next chapter with some Hermione and Lupin stuff. We're getting to the point in the story where I really start going off on my own and I only look at the book for references rather than for actual goings-on. There will still be some unoriginal parts, but mostly it will all be original.

And I am SUPER happy with the response this story is getting - the first day, I was completely flooded with e-mails of favorites and alerts and reviews! It was completely insane, and so amazing I almost cried. So I have to thank everyone who either reviewed or put this on their favorites or alerts list. Man, you guys have really inspired me to really keep this thing going. So, of course, I owe you all the next chapter of Daughter of the Moon. Here you are!

~*----------*~

**Chapter III**

It was Friday now, and the approaching weekend had several students excited. Even Hermione was keyed up, though taking classes was usually her favorite thing to do in the world. However, with all of the extra ones she was taking, Hermione was already beginning to feel weary and tired, as if energy was being sucked out of her by these courses. However, she hadn't looked out the window last night, and therefore she hadn't noticed that the full moon was swiftly approaching.

After lunch and another use of the mysterious Time Turner, Hermione followed a very eager Harry and Ron to Defense Against the Dark Arts class. To say that she was nervous was an understatement. Which, for the people that knew her, was entirely out of character.

Hermione was always excited to meet a new teacher. But now, she wasn't sure if she was excited or frightened. To her relief, Lupin hadn't arrived when she and her friends did, so she had a little bit of time to relax.

The third year wanted to slap herself for her foolishness. Why was she so worried? This was simply another class with another new professor. There was no need to panic. There was no need for anxiety.

So why was she so scared?

"Blimey, Hermione, you look like you've just seen a ghost," commented Ron, who instantly backtracked and corrected himself, "Or, at least, you've seen a scary-looking ghost… for the first time."

"I'm perfectly fine," Hermione informed him stiffly. Why was he so concerned about her business? The door opened and her eyes flew to it only to find Parvati Patil, a fellow Gryffindor girl, coming in with some of her giggling friends. Her shoulders sagged and Hermione groaned. What on earth was wrong with her?

"No, Hermione, you don't look too good," Harry was saying somewhere to her right. "Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"

"I'm fine, Harry, honestly." Hermione glared at the two boys. The fatigue finally washed over her and suddenly she didn't feel like dealing with either of them for the time being. "You two worry about me like I'm some sort of china doll. I can take care of myself. Stop treating me otherwise." She snatched her books and stormed off to sit at another desk.

In her anger she didn't hear Ron murmur, "Do you think it's a female thing?"

She also didn't hear Harry's reply. "I don't know. I just hope she feels better soon, whatever it is. I don't like seeing her like this."

And neither did Remus Lupin.

The fatigued professor had heard the two boys talking to his daughter, and had heard her rather feverish snap in response to their concerns. He managed to hold back a sigh. He had done plenty of research in his day on werewolves, not only to find out more about himself but also to find out what life would be like for Hermione, his one and only child.

So he knew that, around full moons, that while he was becoming restless and energetic, she would begin to lose her energy, and in turn her temper. And as much as he hated to admit it, and as much as he hated himself for it, it was being caused by him. By him being near her. He was drawing on her pure, human energy to keep the great wolf beast within him at bay. He could only imagine what her night would be like on the full moon, which was rapidly approaching. He could only pray that Dumbledore had some sort of plan for all this.

As he made his way to the front of the classroom and set his belongings down, everything quieted. He smiled at the class and said, "Good afternoon. Will you put your books back in your bags, please? Today is going to be a practical lesson - you'll only be needing your wands."

He watched as all the students exchanged looks of confusion and surprise at his request. Had they never had a practical lesson before? He had a lot to teach them, especially if his old friend was on the loose. And if Lupin knew Sirius Black, if Sirius had improved any over the years, then he knew that just about everyone in this room was in danger should Sirius ever find them.

Lupin had a nagging feeling in the back of his head at the thought of his old friend. He knew what it was. Some part of him still believed that Sirius was innocent, that he would never betray the Potters in the first place, or kill Pettigrew. However, Lupin wasn't so sure himself.

Soon, after a moment, everyone had pulled their wands out and had stowed their books away in their bags. "Right, then," he volunteered. "Leave your bags here, you won't be needing them. If you'd follow me."

Lupin walked back to the door of the classroom and opened it. After letting all the students pass through, and catching that strong scent of his daughter once more, Lupin came out and flicked his wand. The door shut and locked behind him.

He led them to an empty classroom, one that hadn't been used in quite a while, where a single rattling wardrobe stood in the middle of it. The class filed in, and Lupin followed after them. He left the door open and strode to the front of the group of babbling students. The wardrobe suddenly rattled quite violently, and several students jumped back. Lupin was pleased to see that his daughter wasn't one of them.

"Nothing to worry about," he assured them. "There's a boggart in there. Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards underneath sinks… I've even met one that had lodged itself into a grandfather clock." He shuddered to remember that it had taken the form of his daughter's bleeding, mangled body. "_This_ one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I personally asked the headmaster if I could use it to practice with you all today. So, the first question is… what _is_ a boggart?"

He almost smiled to himself when Hermione instantly raised her hand, looking eager to answer the question. Dumbledore had told him that she was one of the brightest witches he had ever met, and he was proud to see it was showing.

"It's a shape-shifter," she answered, and Lupin felt a rush of pride as she got the answer right. "It can and will take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Lupin answered tenderly, smiling lightly to himself as her expression broke out into one of pride, and she smiled. He felt a pang in his heart as he realized her smile was exactly like Vivian's… He cleared his throat and continued. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He doesn't know yet what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he's alone, as whenever someone is near he'll turn into what that person fears the most. And so, what sort of advantage will all of us have over it, Harry?"

Lupin purposefully turned his head away from his daughter (who already had her hand high in the air and waving it frantically) to look at Harry Potter. He couldn't make it seem as though he showed any favor to her. Harry seemed to shift his weight uncomfortably, not liking being put in the academic spotlight.

"Er - because there are so many of us, it wouldn't know what shape to take?"

Lupin nodded. "Precisely." He did his best to not look at his daughter, who seemed disappointed that she hadn't gotten to answer the question. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned into half a slug. Not even remotely frightening."

A few people snickered in the back.

"The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to take on a shape that you find truly amusing. We'll practice without wands first, if you don't mind. After me. _Ridikulus_!"

The class echoed him. "_Ridikulus_!"

He smiled and nodded. "Good. Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see the word alone is not enough." His eyes instantly went to Hermione, but as he realized what he was about to do, he averted his eyes to the next person standing beside her. "Neville, will you come join me, please?"

The rotund boy blinked in surprise at being called forward, and carefully same to stand by Professor Lupin as if he were coming to his death. He looked up at Lupin with wide, frightened eyes.

"Right, Neville," said the Professor. "First things first. What would you say is the thing that frightens you most of all?"

He couldn't hear what the boy said in response, so he requested, "Didn't catch that, Neville. Sorry."

Neville gulped and looked around as if someone would rush forward and help him before answering in a more clear voice, "Professor Snape."

Everyone in the class laughed, even Hermione. Lupin couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. She was so beautiful - just like her mother. Every time he saw her, Vivian came to mind… and all of the love and happiness he had felt with her came back to haunt him. And yet… at the same time… he could see just how different Hermione was from her mother. Oh, how he wished he could tell her…

Neville misunderstood his smile. "Or perhaps it's just his class…"

Lupin snapped himself out of his thoughts and looked reassuringly down at Neville. "I'm sorry, Neville, I didn't mean to make you feel as though your fear was misplaced. Professor Snape can be very frightening." He winked, and Neville smiled. "Now, I believe you live with your grandmother, yes?"

"Er - yes," the young boy responded. "But I don't want that boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me. I wonder - can you remember what your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville seemed to consider this. "Well, always the same hat… with a stuffed…"

The Professor cut him off. "No need to say it out loud. Just picture them very clearly in your mind. Can you do that?"

Neville nodded.

"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will take on the form of Professor Snape. And you will raise your wand, like this," (he took a pause to show Neville how to hold his wand), "and cry, _'Ridikulus'_ and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If it all goes well, then your boggart Professor Snape will be forced to wear your grandmother's clothes and will be rendered helpless."

He turned to the class now, trying not to look at his daughter as he instructed them. "If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to whichever one of us is closest. I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might make it into something funny."

Everything went quiet about the room. Professor Lupin wondered if Hermione would take her turn with the boggart. At the same time, he was both eager and nervous to see what would happen. Eager, because he could have an insight into his daughter's life that he'd never had before. Nervous, because he didn't want his daughter faced with the thing she found most frightening. The protective instincts in him arose, as suddenly the wolfish side of him felt the urge to leap in front of Hermione and make sure the boggart didn't come anywhere near her…

"Everyone ready?" he asked to bring his irrational thoughts to an instant close. He _had_ to stop thinking like this, for the sake of his daughter.

When nobody protested, he nodded to Neville. "We're going to back away, Neville," he said. "We'll let you have a clear field, alright? The next person can step forward after everyone's had a good laugh - but not more than one at a time so we don't confuse the boggart into submission too early. I want as many of you to have a chance with it as you can. Everyone back now, so Neville can have a clear shot…"

Everybody backed away from the wardrobe at Lupin's direction, and all of them left a considerable space between Neville and the wardrobe, and a fairly wide distance around. The other students pressed against the walls, and Lupin could hear the increased heartbeat of everyone in the room, including his daughter's. Hating himself for it, Lupin took a peek at her to see that she was standing tall beside Harry Potter (he still wondered how she had ever come to be in consorts with his old friends' son, and the Boy Who Lived, but that was a question for another day), raising her chin as she looked at the mirror.

Now, had he known Hermione well, he would have known that she was actually quite frightened of the creature in the wardrobe. Of course she had read numerous articles and even a book on boggarts, but that didn't prevent her from feeling a little scared at facing her worst fear.

She watched as Lupin raised his wand, and the lock on the door twisted and the door swung open.

Professor Snape (though Hermione knew that this was indeed the boggart) stumbled out from the wardrobe and began to walk purposefully towards Neville, flashing his eyes and glaring down at the boy over a long, hooked nose.

"R-R-_Ridikulus!_" squeaked Neville as he finally managed to raise his wand.

It sounded as though something had cracked, and Hermione laughed along with her classmates as the Professor Snape was suddenly wearing a long-trimmed emerald green dress with a bright red handbag and a stuff vulture atop his head. Her laughter died off into interest as she looked at the boggart as it suddenly looked confused, and rounded on Parvati Patil, who had bravely stepped forward from the throng of her friends on the other side of the room.

With just one look, the boggart paused and suddenly another crack sounded, and in the comical Professor Snape's place was a mummy soaked in what appeared to be blood. Even Hermione shrank back from it, until Parvati shouted,

"_Ridikulus!_"

The mummy's wrappings unraveled until finally its head fell off, and Hermione giggled quietly as Seamus took a bold leap forward to face the boggart now.

Another crack sounded and the tangled mummy was suddenly a skeletal woman with floor-length black hair with green skin. Hermione instantly recognized it as a banshee as it opened its mouth and released a guttural scream that hurt everyone's ears.

Seamus paused for a moment, shaking and holding his head before flicking out his wand and growling, "_Ridikulus!_"

The banshee was clutching at her throat, and suddenly her voice was gone. And her skin, rather than being green, was a ridiculous color of pink. It looked confused before turning into a rattlesnake, which withered, and then into an eyeball, which shrank.

"It's confused!" Hermione was surprised to hear the Professor's voice. "We're getting there! Someone else, now!"

A Ravenclaw girl hurried forward, and the eyeball became a bloody-looking ghost, and reached out for the Ravenclaw when she yelled, "_Ridikulus!_"

The ghoul began dancing involuntarily, and everyone in the class laughed at it.

Ron took a step forward, then, and Hermione wasn't surprised at all to find that the boggart came onto him as a giant spider. Everyone was suddenly disconcerted by the arachnid, trying to skitter away from it. Ron looked frozen for a few seconds as the spider clicked forward, before he raised his wand and declared, "_Ridikulus!_" And suddenly the spider was skating.

"Just a few more blows, now!"

Well, if Ron could do it, then Hermione could. She gently made her way to the front to face the boggart with a look of pure concentration, even though she felt like shuddering to pieces and the skating spider looked at her and suddenly changed into what she feared most.

It was suddenly a great serpent, deep green in color, looking at her with glowing golden eyes - the very eyes she remembered seeing on the basilisk in second year before she'd been Petrified. But this one was no basilisk. It flicked out a great red tongue at her, teasing her robes, and Hermione gulped and raised a shaking wand before she said as clearly as she could manage, "_Ridikulus!_"

The serpent turned into a slinky, but nobody laughed at the sudden change except for Harry and a few other students. It was obvious that most of them, not being raised in the Muggle world as she was, had never seen or heard of a slinky before. Hermione wasn't sure if that made her feel special or just uncomfortable, and her knees were wobbling just a tad at seeing the huge snake.

She looked to Lupin for approval and praise. But all she saw there was a curious and concerned expression that made her think she hadn't done it right. Feeling completely out of place, she went back and she almost didn't notice Harry make his way forward.

Just as the boggart was about to turn its gaze at Harry, Lupin crossed the room with a purpose and jumped in front of him. The boggart took one look at Lupin before turning into what was either a moon or a crystal ball - Hermione couldn't tell which. When Lupin bellowed, "_Ridikulus!_", the frightening Dark creature exploded into a million wispy pieces.

All of the students applauded enthusiastically.

"Excellent! Well, done everyone. Let me see… five points to everyone who faced the boggart, and an extra five to Harry and Hermione each as well," Lupin praised them all.

"But I didn't do anything," Hermione heard Harry say in confusion.

The Professor looked at Harry and Hermione noticed how Lupin was very careful to look at him and not her. "You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of class, Harry." Then he looked around at all of the students. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. For homework, I'd like you all to read the chapter on boggarts in your books and summarize it in five sentences for me - due on Monday. That will be all."

Hermione turned to go just as Lupin said, "Now, Hermione, I was hoping to speak with you after everyone else has collected their bags? I'll be waiting in my office."

"Of course, Professor," she murmured before following the rest of her classmates back to their original classroom.

And Lupin did not miss how Harry Potter had waited for her.

He was also thinking. What on earth was he doing, inviting his daughter to speak with him? Of course, he knew she, nor the other students, would find anything suspicious about that. But it had been an act of impulse rather than an act of teacher-student concern. Absentmindedly, Lupin walked back to his classroom and panicked as he paused outside the door as students were streaming out of it with bags in hand. What exactly was he supposed to say to her? What could he use as an excuse for inviting her to stay after class?

When the last student (Harry Potter, he was almost begrudging to notice) had exited, Lupin entered. He was still considering what to say when Hermione was suddenly there before him, looking up at him with her chocolate brown eyes. He nearly felt tears come to his eyes as she once again startlingly reminded him of his late wife Vivian.

"You wanted to see me, Professor? Did I do something wrong with the boggart?"

She sounded so worried. Lupin leaned against the doorframe, trying to look at her without letting too much emotion get into his eyes.

"I was just a little worried about your reaction to the boggart, Miss Granger," he told her, even though he wanted to call her by her _true_ last name. "You seemed a little more shaky than the rest."

His daughter paused. "I'm just a little tired, I suppose," she said.

Lupin considered this. He remembered what McGonagall had told him, about how she was using a Time Turner in order to take all her classes. He also remembered how snappish she had acted to her friends, and remembered how close the full moon was. And how she would be affected by this.

Ever so gently, he put a hand on her shoulder. It was all he could do not to take her into his arms and beg forgiveness for not only leaving her with the Grangers that night, but for all the restlessness she was enduring now on his behalf. He smiled down at her, and was surprised to see that she smiled back at him.

"If you need _anything_, you know you can come talk to me, McGonagall, or Dumbledore. If this new schedule is too much for you…"

"Sorry, Professor, but I don't think it's that, exactly. And… why could I come to you instead of Dumbledore?"

He scrambled for an excuse, and suddenly remembered Harry. "You're a friend of Harry's, Hermione." Her name rolled off his tongue naturally. "And Harry is the son of two of my dearest friends. Any friend of Harry's is not only a friend, but also like a family member of mine." _If only you knew just how much of a family we were._

Hermione smiled wider, and he felt yet another pang in his heart. "Thank you, Professor."

"Any time, dear."

He withdrew his hand reluctantly, and she began walking to the door. Just before she exited, she paused. "Professor?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I was just wondering… er… if you live anywhere near Amerford, just outside London? I know how strange this sounds, but I think I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?"

Lupin froze, all of his muscles tensing. And also like Vivian, she was abnormally perceptive, which he silently cursed. He remembered how nosy Vivian had been when he had been in school - in fact, he'd found it exceedingly annoying. But now, he only remembered it as endearing. Though, in this case, he wished young Hermione hadn't inherited such a trait.

"I'm sorry to say I've never been to Amerford," Lupin lied smoothly, forcing his muscles to relax. "And I'm also sorry if I disappoint you when I say I don't believe we've officially met until today."

He watched as first frustration, then confusion, and then frustration again crossed her features. She faked a smile at him, but Lupin could see behind it.

"Sorry to bother you, then, Professor," she said before walking out into the corridor.

When he was sure she was gone, Lupin sank into one of the chairs in the classroom. "There's so much I want to tell my sweetling," he whispered to nobody. "Whatever higher power there may be in this world, please grant me the courage to do so. I don't know how much longer I can go on like this."

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't know if he could even hold on past the full moon.

~*----------*~

"I don't understand it," Hermione was raving that night in the Gryffindor Common Room. Everyone else had gone to bed, as had Ron, and for once Harry was doing his homework early rather than the night before it was due.

"Understand what?" Harry asked absentmindedly as he dipped his quill into his ink.

Hermione sighed impatiently, pacing in front of the fire with determination in her eyes. "It's just… he was so tense the entire time we were talking! Like he was afraid to be in the same room as me! And asking me if I was alright - I'm sure Neville had plenty more trouble than I did, and he's asking me if _I'm_ alright! It's driving me completely insane, Harry, and I don't know why. Why does it feel like he knows so much more about me than he lets on?"

"No offense, Hermione, but there isn't all that much to know about you," Harry told her from the corner. "I mean, there isn't some deeper meaning behind all of your actions, is there?"

"What's what suppose to mean? Are you calling me shallow?" demanded Hermione.

Harry instantly backtracked. "No, of course not! You're one of the kindest, deepest girls I know. You're brilliant and good-hearted through and through. I wasn't saying you were shallow. I'm just saying that there isn't something underneath the surface that other people can't see."

"Hm…" Hermione thought about this. "But there must be _something_ that has Professor Lupin acting like this. A secret or some kind of suspicion. And what bothers me the most is that it's obviously about me! Something that has to do with _me_! Or he wouldn't be so tense around me all the time. You don't think I'm being possessed by You-Know-Who or anything like that, do you?"

Harry looked at her, surprised, and put down his quill. "Hermione… I couldn't imagine Voldemort" (she flinched at the Dark Lord's name) "working through you. That's just… that's just stupid, alright? You're being paranoid. You're too… you're too pure and, and good for him to be working through you, and… and all because he possessed Ginny last year doesn't mean he can just do it again at will, Hermione. He might still be out there, but he definitely doesn't have the power he used to. He couldn't… I mean, he just… No. No, Hermione, I'm pretty sure Voldemort isn't working through you."

Hermione sank down onto the couch, holding her head in her hands. "Thanks, Harry. It's just… this stuff is happening to me, and I don't know why. Lately I've been getting grouchier and grouchier, and I just don't understand it. And I _hate_ that. And it's making me scared. I'm scared there might be something wrong with me."

"There isn't anything wrong with you, Hermione." She felt the weight of the couch dip beside her and realized he'd sat down next to her. "It can't be. You're just tired and overwhelmed with everything, that's all." She felt an arm gingerly wrap around her shoulders, and suddenly Hermione felt so much better.

"Sorry," she sniffled, rubbing her face and finding herself wanting to lean into her best friend. But she restrained herself and remained in the exact same position. "I suppose you have much more to worry about, with Sirius Black on the loose and all. I don't need to be burdening you with my silly little problems. It's ridiculous of me."

"No problem of yours is ever not mine, Hermione. You're one of the closest friends I have. If something's bothering you, you need to tell me. Sirius Black isn't here inside of Hogwarts' walls, but you are. And any problems you may have are my first priority. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Good." Harry withdrew his arm and suddenly Hermione felt very alone on the couch as he stood and went back to his homework. "Now can you help me with this Potions essay?"

As Hermione went to help him, she didn't look out the window. The full moon itself was only two days away.

* * *

EOC: I hope you all liked that chapter - both Hermione and Lupin interaction and some more setting up of Harry/Hermione. I'm a Harmonian through and through. And I definitely adlibbed with Hermione's worst fear. I figured that the whole being Petrified thing would still be fresh in her mind, since it only happened just last year to her, and it never really discusses what her worst fear actually might be. So I improvised, and I hope it was convincing. I really am super happy with the reviews this story is getting, since I never really expected it to attract so much attention. I have you all to thank for it, again, and any new readers who are considering putting this story on their alerts or favorites. I beg you to review, as I love reading them, and please click that inviting green button! I have some things to do this weekend, so don't be surprised if the review reply comes a day or two late. Thank you all so much again, and I hope to see you all (virtually) again! - Viv


	5. 04: Full Moon

A new update/new chapter for you all! Now, I know I didn't respond to any reviews this time around, and I'm sorry for that. If you want me to be honest, I just got lazy with them. But I want you all to know just how much I appreciated them, and that I plan on making it up to you. THIS time, if you review, you will have a choice. You can tell me what you thought, of course, but you may also request something. You will get the chance to request either A) a sneak peek I prepared for you all of some upcoming action OR B) a flashback of how Vivian and Lupin started going out when they were in Hogwarts - it'll be your choice so I can make up for my being lazy. I'm also beginning to work on a Marauders Era story (a James/Lily story, of course) that will feature Vivian and Lupin and will have plenty of adorableness between those two. Just wanted to let you all know, and I'll remind you abotu the review thing after you read through the chapter.

**DISCLAIMER:** Remember, hermione snape's _All For You_ inspired this. The characters are J.K Rowling's (except for Hermione's mum, who's dead anyway to be blunt about it), as is most of the plot and another part came from hermione snape's. Just remember that this is my spin on it, and thank you so much for responding in the way you have. This chapter is going to be almost completely original, and I hope you enjoy it!

~*----------*~

**Chapter IV**

Rumors spread, and by Saturday evening Defense Against the Dark Arts was everyone's favorite class. The only people who had something bad to say about Professor Lupin were, of course, Malfoy and his group of cronies.

"Just look at the state of his robes," he was caught whispering that night at dinner. "He dresses like our old house elf."

But, of course, nobody really listened except for the nasty students who associated themselves with him.

Nobody else really paid attention to him.

Especially at the Gryffindor table, where many were clustered around a very sick-looking Hermione who was refusing to eat even a bite of her roasted pork or mashed potatoes. Her friends, including Harry, Ron, and Ginny, were all gathered about her trying to figure out what was wrong. Hermione had never really been sick before, and never during a meal.

"Honestly, everyone, I'm fine," Hermione was murmuring, but her heart wasn't really in what she was saying.

"Hermione, you haven't eaten a bite," said Ginny, looking worried for her friend's health. "Are you feeling sick to the stomach? Should we take you to Madame Pomfrey?"

"No, I'm not going to the Hospital Wing," Hermione snapped. She stood up, her plate left untouched, and stormed away out of the Great Hall. Her friends looked after her, and Harry frowned.

"I'll go and see if she needs anything."

Ron snorted. "Good luck with that, mate. I'm pretty much certain it's female stuff."

Ginny slapped him upside the head for his sentiments as Harry walked away.

Hermione, on the other hand, was wiping away frustrated tears as she came out into the corridor. Harry followed behind her, as she could hear his footsteps. She ignored him until she reached the entrance to the Grand Staircase before she paused.

"What do you want, Harry?"

"I… I just wanted to make sure you were _really_ okay. Do you need help getting up to the Common Room, or do you need to use the loo?" From the tone of his voice, Hermione could tell he was surprised by her almost aggressive tone.

The feverish anger within her suddenly abated, and she wondered why she was feeling so strange for about the thousandth time. Though the anger had seemingly disappeared for a while, she still felt a little queasy, and she was very glad that today was Saturday rather than a school day. But, she _really_ didn't want to go to the Hospital Wing, and she was pretty sure her stomach was strong enough to hold in whatever she'd eaten.

"I'll be fine, Harry, really." Hermione did her best to smile at him, and it wasn't hard to see that her best friend wasn't convinced.

"If… if you're sure." And so he turned away and went back into the Great Hall.

Hermione sighed, running her hands over her face and forcing herself into an old, empty classroom. She needed time alone, somewhere nobody would think of bothering her. She just needed to think, to try and sort some of this messy situation out. She groaned helplessly as she leaned against the far wall and slid down it, brushing some strands of her sandy brown hair away from her eyes.

"Hermione?"

Her head jerked up to see Professor Lupin standing there in the doorway, looking quite concerned. There was some sort of emotion in his amber eyes that she couldn't quite identify - something she remembered seeing so often at home. She started, leaping to her feet and tensing against the wall. The strange thing was, was that while with another teacher she would have been absolutely terrified at being found alone in an empty classroom, she felt extremely _safe_ with Professor Lupin. Like he wouldn't get her in trouble no matter what.

Hermione simply credited that emotion to how he had treated her the other day. She was a friend of Harry's, as he had explained.

"There's something wrong." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I'm fine. Just a bit under the weather, is all," Hermione bluffed, rubbing the back of her neck. How did Professor Lupin know where she was, if she'd only been in here for a moment at the most? How did he know something was terribly wrong? She hated not knowing the answers to questions such as these.

Just like Harry, it was obvious Professor Lupin wasn't fooled with her lie. He gave her a worried frown. "Hermione, are you sure? You've seemed quite upset of late."

"How would you know that?" Hermione demanded, feeling the feverish, animalistic anger return with a vengeance. "You hardly ever look at my table during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and when you speak to me it looks like you would much rather be somewhere else enduring horrible torture! How could you possibly know that there is something wrong with me? How did you even know how to find me, let alone where I was? Things are happening to me, and I don't know why, and you have not been helping with the frustration, either!" The last bit just burst out of her, and Hermione realized suddenly what she had just said.

"Oh, Professor… I'm… I'm so sorry, I… I didn't mean to shout, I… If you'll excuse me," she sputtered, and rushed for the door.

A gentle hand on her arm stopped her. Hermione looked up to be confronted with a very fretful pair of amber eyes. Looking into them, Hermione found that emotion again - an emotion she couldn't place.

"Hermione, there's no need to apologize. I'm so very sorry I have not been so forward with you." And he looked as if he meant it. "I'll explain it all later, I promise. Perhaps in a few days, when I'm feeling a bit better. You see I'm a 'tad under the weather' too." He smiled as he quoted her from earlier.

Hermione, instead of being comforted, only scowled in further confusion. "What do you mean? Has something gone wrong with me? What's wrong with _you_, then?"

"All in good time, I promise, dear," vowed the anxious Professor. "But for now I must head off to the dungeons. I have an appointment with Professor Snape that I can't afford to miss. Perhaps I will see you later. I hope you feel better, Hermione, I really do. I'll explain everything eventually. That alone I can swear to you."

Hermione didn't feel convinced, but the idea of actually getting information, of getting this annoying and frightening mystery solved, appealed to her very much. In fact, it made her feel slightly better. But not enough to completely stop the queasy and sore feeling in her stomach and the rest of her body. For now, she could tell from the look in the Professor's eyes that she would just have to wait. But for what, she had absolutely no idea.

"Goodbye, Professor," Hermione murmured as he released her, and she scuttled down the hall and towards the Grand Staircase.

A pair of amber eyes watched her carefully as she went.

~*----------*~

It was Sunday evening, and Hermione was feeling worse than ever. Her stomach was unsettled, her entire body felt sore, and above all, she was restless. More restless than she had ever been her entire life. She couldn't stay still for more than a minute, and if she moved she had a horrible aching pain all over her body, like her muscles were stretching too far for them to be even human at this point. She found that her eyes had better vision, and her ears better hearing. She could hear the softest whisper from across the Common Room, and see every individual hair on Crookshanks' pelt from the couch and he on the window.

Even Ron noticed that she was acting strangely.

"Er, Hermione, maybe you better go to bed," he suggested that night after dinner. Hermione had hardly eaten anything again, and she was even more anxious when she'd discovered Professor Lupin wasn't there.

"I'm not tired," Hermione growled out, as she paced in front of the fire.

"Hermione, Ron is right… I mean, this can't be healthy. You can't possibly expect to sit around in classes all day tomorrow if you're acting like this," Harry supported. He too was concerned about Hermione's behavior - it was so unlike her. "You should get some sleep and we'll see if you feel better in the morning."

Hermione rounded on Harry, about to growl at him to not tell her what to do, when something in his expression stopped her. In her zealous state, she couldn't even classify what it was. She almost felt like an animal, curious about everything but definitely angered at anything that got in her way. Was that concern she saw in his eyes, or irritation? She couldn't really tell.

"I…" she started, but then her shoulders slumped as the rational part of her mind realized he was right. "Alright. I just don't understand what's going on. I'll feel better tomorrow, I'm sure."

And so she started trudging up the stairs, not even bothering to listen to the farewells and goodnights that came from Harry and Ron. She wasn't even aware of the cold stone floor underneath her bare feet as she ascended the stairwell. All she was aware of was a growing tugging in the back of her mind. Something that was telling her that being inside, locked up, was not the place where she should be.

She needed to get out. Out into the open air, out into a place where she could roam free instead of being cooped up inside like this…

"I'm going mad," Hermione whispered to herself as she finally stumbled into the girls' dormitory. Thankfully she was the only one who had gone to bed so early, so there was nobody to give her strange looks or to ask her if she was okay - heaven knows she'd had enough of those questions today.

"A nice sleep will get my mind in order," she said, though she murmured it like it was some kind of lifeline.

Without even changing her robes, Hermione slipped underneath her covers and gulped as she pushed some of her hair away from her sweating face. What was going on with her? The only thing keeping her sane, she was sure, was the fact that Professor Lupin would explain this all very soon. Whatever there was to explain, anyway.

If he was even at Hogwarts anymore.

Hermione was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't even notice the hours slipping by, or the other girls coming in and slipping into their own beds with worried glances in Hermione's direction. All she noticed was the pull in her head going from gentle to mild, and from mild to maddening. Eventually, Hermione growled softly to herself before heaving herself off her bed to start pacing again. Everyone else was already fast asleep.

It had to be close to midnight, and the clouds parted outside to hit Hermione with a full blast of the moon. The full, unblemished moon.

Hermione gasped at the power that suddenly swelled within her, the power that the moon seemed to fill her with. Her eyes widened as she felt it coursing through her veins, and suddenly her vision sharpened and so did her hearing - even more so than they had been this evening.

So she didn't miss movement in the corner of her eye. The movement of someone, someone she knew, suddenly bursting into something that wasn't really… human… and charging into the Forbidden Forest.

Suddenly, her heart wasn't in its ribcage. It was outside, running with whatever had come out of the man and had gone into the Forbidden Forest. Without being aware of what she was really doing, Hermione slipped on her shoes. Her eyes glazed over, and her mind was as confused as ever. What on earth was she doing, and where was she going? Surely, if she was caught, at least fifty points would be deducted from Gryffindor, and she really didn't like breaking the rules in such a manner.

But, alas, her mind seemingly had no control over her body.

She felt like a ghost as she glided about the corridors, leaving the Gryffindor Common Room behind and eventually the entire tower. There were no teachers about, nor prefects, as she snuck her way down the Grand Staircase. There wasn't even anyone in the Entrance Hall when she reached it. Not one trace of the nasty caretaker, Mr. Filch, or his menacing cat Mrs. Norris. Everything just seemed empty.

So it was no matter going out the front doors and heading out onto the grounds.

Hermione's mind was screaming at her body to stop (what on _earth_ was she doing, running about like this?), but instead this only seemed to spur her feet faster. She felt like a prisoner in her own body. Was this what possession felt like?

Only when she realized where her feet were taking her did her mind truly begin panicking.

_The Forbidden Forest?!_ she was shrieking silently. _I can't go in there alone, with all the things running around! With all of those wild creatures! It's the middle of the night! STOP, STOP, STOP!_

"Miss Granger! Miss Granger!"

It was the flustered voice of Professor McGonagall.

The instant the professor's voice reached her ears, Hermione suddenly had control over her body again. All the dream-like haze vanished in that instant, and she found herself back in reality… not that she hadn't been before.

"Miss Granger, are you alright?"

Hermione found she couldn't exactly speak just yet. Her mouth couldn't move, it seemed, but she staggered backwards with her hands on her face. What had she almost _done_?

Suddenly Professor McGonagall was beside her, looking quite tense in her bed robes, with her hair hanging loosely down her back. Her eyes were wide over her hastily put on glasses as she looked down at the frozen Gryffindor student, maternal concern in her wizened eyes.

"Miss Granger, are you quite alright? You gave me a scare, my dear."

Hermione suddenly found her voice. "Professor, I'm so sorry… I don't know what came over me, I swear, I…"

"No need, no need," Professor McGonagall murmured, putting a hand on the thirteen-year old girl's shoulder. "I know exactly what's happened. We'll have to get you to the Hospital Wing, of course. Professor Dumbledore will want to know about this, as will Lupin when he returns to the castle… no classes for you tomorrow, of course…" By the end, she was practically muttering to herself as she began leading the third year back to the castle.

"I… I'm not in trouble, Professor?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Trouble? No, no, of course not!" the elder woman exclaimed.

"What… what's happened? Professor, why am I not in trouble?"

"Of course he wouldn't have told you, the foolish man," McGonagall muttered, almost angry as she took Hermione by the arm and took her back up into the Entrance Hall. "It isn't my place to say, Miss Granger, but I can assure you that you'll know everything soon enough. I can't punish a girl for something she has no control over. But mind you, Professor Dumbledore will have to know. He'll have to know about this… we all _told_ him such a thing would happen if it went unmonitored…"

"Unmonitored?" Hermione questioned as they went onto the Grand Staircase. Professor McGonagall was leading her up to the first floor by her arm now. She still felt as if she were in somewhat of a daze.

"Yes, unmonitored. Someone in your condition can't just be left alone on a night like this, but nobody listened to me," McGonagall grumbled.

"Condition? Is there something wrong with me?"

Professor McGonagall looked at her as if she were mad. "Wrong? On the contrary, Miss Granger, nothing is wrong with you, but there is something different. It is so difficult explaining when you don't know the full story… I will leave that all to Professor Lupin when he returns to the castle. Ah! Poppy!"

They had reached the hospital wing now, and Madame Pomfrey came rushing out with wide eyes.

"Minerva, what has happened?"

"Miss Granger has been afflicted by the full moon. You would know why. We need her to be treated immediately," Professor McGonagall instructed the flustered old nurse, who instantly took Hermione from McGonagall and led her into the hospital wing where Madame Pomfrey made Hermione sit down on a bed.

"Oh, sweet Lord," Madame Pomfrey murmured before rushing back into her store room, probably to retrieve a potion of some kind for the sickly-looking girl sitting with her legs hugged tightly to her chest on the hospital cot.

"Now, are you feeling quite yourself dear? You don't feel as if you want to go back outside?" Professor McGonagall was asking Hermione now, her hands fluttering about the girl, unsure of what to do, exactly.

Hermione did a quick mental check. "No," she whispered. What was happening to her? She wanted to know! And yet, everyone was holding back from her - nobody seemed to be able to give her any information. It all tied back to Professor Lupin too, which she wasn't sure if that didn't surprise her or just made her even more nervous. What could he possibly have to do with her?

She was really beginning to hate mysteries. She vowed to never pick up a mystery novel again if she went back to a Muggle library.

"Drink this, drink this," Madame Pomfrey was mumbling as she came rushing back to Hermione. She handed the third year a goblet with some kind of clear liquid in it. Hermione looked down into it warily before gulping it down unceremoniously, and practically choking when she realized how bitter it tasted. What horrible stuff!

"What… what is that?" Hermione gasped out as the liquid seared down her throat.

"It's a watered down version of Wolfsbane, my dear," Madame Pomfrey explained as she went about getting Hermione's cot ready. "A nasty potion, I assure you, but entirely necessary. I'll have you get into some proper pajamas, here you are…" (She conjured up a pair and handed them to Hermione.) "And you can change over there in that closet. The bed will be warm and waiting for you when you return. Then you can get some rest, and we'll see what to do with you when you wake up."

Hermione looked down at the pajamas with slight confusion, already feeling much better, and hurried to oblige.

Professor McGonagall looked at Poppy Pomfrey with concern. "Do you think Miss Granger will be quite alright, with her condition?" she questioned anxiously. "Must we do this every full moon?"

"I'm afraid so, if that Lupin is going to be anywhere near her over the next few months," Madame Pomfrey affirmed. "But Miss Granger ought to be completely unharmed. Had she been raised by him, she wouldn't be affected so strongly. This _is_ her first time, after all, and I expect this night will be a lot more intense than it will be from now on. We can at least be thankful for that."

"What can we all do to make this easier?"

"There is no way, I'm afraid," said Madame Pomfrey. "She'll be restless over the next few nights, but I know she won't want to be cooped up here for all three days of the full moon. We'll just have to keep a very close eye on her and administer Wolfsbane whenever she needs it."

By this time, Hermione had exited the small closet in which she had changed. She hadn't heard a word the elderly women had said, but was instantly suspicious when they both look at her with worried gazes. Pomfrey helped her into her bed and smiled down at her.

"Now, you get some sleep, and in the morning we'll see how you're doing. Sleep is the most important thing for you now, I'm sure," Madame Pomfrey assured her as the young girl climbed into the warm hospital bed. "We'll leave you alone. Is there anything you need?"

"No," Hermione yawned. "Thank you all, so much. I… I don't really know what's happening, but… but, thank you…" She was already drifting off to sleep, her eyelids drooping. Unconsciously, she turned her head towards the pillow and buried her face into it. Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey didn't miss how Hermione resembled a puppy snuggling into its new bed.

"Good night, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said to the girl a second too late. She looked at Madame Pomfrey. "I'll keep a lookout for him. There's no doubt in my mind that he'll come rushing here the instant he hears about it. I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Poppy."

"Oh, no worries. This is my duty, of course," Madame Pomfrey responded before shutting the doors to the hospital wing gently behind McGonagall.

And so Professor McGonagall began her midnight vigil, waiting for the anxious Professor Lupin to come rushing to Miss Granger's aid.

~*----------*~

When Hermione finally managed to come round, the first thing she noticed was that her hand was exceedingly warm, like it was encased in an extra blanket. The next thing she noticed was that she was fairly drowsy still, and a sweet musky smell reached her nose. It almost smelled like the forest, with a hint of mint and musk to the side.

Finally, her eyes flickered open.

The first thing she comprehended was that it was still dark out, there was no promise of sunlight in the sky yet, and it was too early for it to be anywhere near dawn. Then, she looked up and saw just who was holding her hand so fervently.

It was Professor Lupin.

Hermione tensed, pulling her hand away from his and glaring at him suspiciously. She remembered, though vaguely, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey talking about how this was all centered around him, somehow. He was looking at her with fierce concern, and there was a bandaged scratch on the right side of his face. His jaw was taut as he stood up, towering over her. Though, naturally, his posture would be rather frightening, Hermione found herself completely unafraid.

"What's happened?" she demanded of him, her drowsiness beginning to irritate her. "Why has this happened to me? Why won't anyone tell me a thing?"

Lupin's eyes were haunted, troubled. But in her frustration and anger Hermione couldn't bring herself to care.

"The full moon has brought out a beast in you that shouldn't exist," Professor Lupin answered plainly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'm not a werewolf," she observed.

Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised at her answer. "No, but you're the daughter of one," he told her plainly. It was time - she needed to know. Had he known that she would actually leave the castle and practically endanger herself by trying to find him in his most dangerous form… he would have told her this morning. Today. Any time before now. But, as he knew she would not settle for anything less after all of this, he owed her the truth. The complete truth. He owed her everything.

"No. I'm the daughter of two Muggles. A Muggle-born," Hermione answered stubbornly, jutting her chin out and glaring up at the Professor.

"Have you ever wondered why you look nothing like them?" Lupin then asked.

Hermione blinked, obviously caught off guard by his reply. "They… Mum told me I took after her own Mum. Who passed away before I was even born…"

"No, that isn't the reason. An admirable lie, but a lie nonetheless," said Lupin.

Hermione's eyes started to water. Why was he saying these things to her? "What would you know? You're only a Professor."

"To other students, I am," Lupin responded, doing his best to keep calm. "But to you, I am much more than that."

"What do you mean?" Hermione tensed against her pillows.

"Hermione… Granger. That was never your real name. When you next write your Muggle parents, ask them about a note. A note from a stranger that asked them to take care of you."

"What? How would you know this?"

"Because I was that stranger, Hermione, sweetling. Your real name was never Hermione Granger. It has been and will always be Hermione Jean Lupin."

* * *

**EOC:** Thank you so much for reading, and remember what I said about reviewing. If you review this time, you can request either **A)** _a sneak peek of some action later on_ or **B)** _a flashback explaining how Vivian and Lupin started going out and fell in love_. Just tell me whichever one you would prefer reading in your review and WHEN I reply, it'll be included. Sound good? I hope so. Hope you all aren't too angry with me for not replying to your reviews last time! I'll see you around (virtually, of course). - Viv


	6. 05: Truth Denied

I present to you all, the next chapter! Voila! I'll admit, though, I'm trying to get both Hermione and Lupin's perspectives on this whole ordeal so if the POV/third person narration gets too confusing, feel free to ask me something when you're done reading. I also ask you to forgive me for the shortness and choppiness of this chapter. This week's been a tad stressful on me, and yesterday was a big day for me. But now that's all over and hopefully everything will be going much more smoothly from now on! I also ask you forgive me if you find major typos in here. I was in a rush to get this finished and updated so you all would have your update today. Enjoy!

~*----------*~

**Chapter V**

Hermione blinked. For that split second, time froze. Everything stopped moving. She was fairly sure that the world stopped spinning and then changed its axis too.

This was a lie. It had to be. Her Mum and Dad loved her very much. They'd told her that they weren't able to have children after her, but Hermione remembered, when she was much younger and much more innocent, coming across some hospital records. They had said something about Mum being barren, that she'd _never_ been able to reproduce. But she had trusted her parents completely, and she'd never expected _this_.

Her eyes hardened and she glared up at Professor Lupin, unable to even consider the possibility of what he was suggesting. "You're lying," she hissed.

Lupin winced, not having expected that reaction from her. He took an instinctive step back at her tone of voice. He remembered how Vivian used it, and oh how those had been frightening times. He shuddered to think of just how threatening Hermione would be when she got older.

"On the contrary, I'm telling the straight truth." He was trying so hard to stay calm. The wolf within him had just barely calmed down and retreated, but this situation was firing him up again. The only thing keeping him here was that he knew the wolf would never try to hurt Hermione either - to both halves of him, she was his daughter. Something that couldn't be endangered at any cost. The only family they had at this point in time.

Hermione huffed. "Impossible, then," she said, shaking her head. "You couldn't be any relation to me."

"I know everything there is to know about you," Professor Lupin answered. "Everything a family member should know about another."

"When is my birthday?"

"September 19th."

"Who's my best friend?"

"Harry Potter."

"What's my favorite color?"

"Blue, though at times it's green depending on your mood."

Hermione scowled. She hadn't expected him to know that much - in fact she'd been pretty sure he wouldn't have even gotten the first question correct, and yet he answered it with no hesitation and got it completely right. She narrowed her eyes in speculation. Was it even possible…? No. No, it couldn't be.

"If we… _if_ we were related to each other… what would you be to me? My uncle?" she asked sharply.

Professor Lupin paused before answering. He had vowed, just moments before, that he would tell her everything. What choice did he have? "You… you would be… _are_… my daughter."

"Impossible," Hermione repeated.

But as she stared at him in disbelief, a seed suddenly sprouted forth from her mind. A memory, a long-lost dream that she hadn't had in years.

A cold night, flashing lights, swirling air, and then complete stillness. A man hovering over her, whispering things to her that she supposed were meant to be comfort words. But she remembered, this man was not Mr. Granger, and yet… she felt safe, protected, and _loved_ with this man. She remembered feeling so young - in the dream she couldn't have been more than a toddler. The dream reminded her of something, something that only confirmed her fears that what Lupin was saying was actually true.

It reminded her of how she had felt yesterday, when Lupin had found her in the old unused classroom. She'd felt protected, safe… and she realized that the third part of that emotion was she felt loved.

It was all too much to bear. "You… you're my… then if you're my father, where's my mother?"

"Dead. I'm sorry, sweetling," Lupin answered without hesitation. The memory of Vivian still hurt to think about, but he knew that Hermione had to know every bit of truth.

"Then why are Mum and Dad… why didn't they ever tell me?"

"I'm sure they had their own reasons, but you can't blame them for this. Every piece of this is my own fault, and I'm sorry for that. I couldn't take care of you, so I gave you up. I gave you to someone else," Lupin told her, remembering that night with perfect clarity.

Hermione considered this. This was all too much for her to take in at once, she couldn't believe it. There was a part of her that was screaming in exultation, as though she almost knew that this had been true right from the very start. But there was another part of her, the Muggle-born in her, the Granger in her, that was telling her that there was no way any of this was anything but a bunch of folly. She had no idea which part to believe, and her psyche was beginning to burst at its seams.

"Like Dumbledore did with Harry when his parents were killed by You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked.

Lupin nodded. "Very much like it. It wasn't too long after, actually," he admitted.

"I still can't believe it," Hermione murmured, running a hand through her mess of sandy brown curls. "It seems impossible. I… I need to be alone. Please. I need to… I just need to…"

"Do whatever you need, sweetling. I'll be in my office if you need Madame Pomfrey to fetch me."

Lupin didn't _want_ to leave, but at the expression on his beloved daughter's face, he knew that he had to. She was in no state to continue this conversation, and probably wouldn't be until after she had spoken with her adopted Muggle parents. Perhaps this _had_ been a bad idea after all, to tell her about all of this when she clearly wasn't read to hear it.

Only time could tell now, he supposed.

~*----------*~

"Sure you're alright, Hermione? You seem a little… put out today," observed a very perceptive Harry that afternoon.

Classes had already ended, and Harry and Ron had come to the hospital wing to see their friend. This morning, Hermione had been told that she wouldn't be allowed to attend any classes today by a very sympathetic and fretting Madame Pomfrey, who had insisted that her fragile state of mind needed time to heal. The full moon apparently had a very disastrous effect on her, and though Hermione was a little frightened about what the next one would bring, she knew that Madame Pomfrey was right.

"Professor Lupin came to visit me last night," she whispered, not able to keep the truth from her two dearest friends.

"Really? Knew there was something weird about that bloke," Ron observed. "What for?"

"He… he was worried about me," Hermione answered, her voice soft as she wasn't able to raise her voice at all now that this matter was on her mind again.

Harry seemed to sense that something was horribly wrong. "What did he say? Hermione, what happened?"

"He said… he said that I was his daughter," Hermione murmured, her voice breaking on the last word. How was that possible? How could her mother and father… _not_ be her real mother and father? "That I wasn't a Muggle-born."

Harry and Ron exchanged shocked looks, and Hermione looked away. She wasn't able to bear their expressions.

"Do you believe him?" Harry asked her.

Hermione sniffled. "I don't know," she replied. "There's a part of me that believes him, and another part that doesn't. I don't know what to think. I don't know anything about anything anymore. I don't know what's going to happen to me."

"Well, what happened exactly?"

She recounted the tale of everything that had occurred about twelve hours before. Neither interrupted (though Ron looked like he wanted to once or twice, but decided that keeping quiet would be best), until her story had been completed. At that point, Harry looked deep in thought, and Ron just looked… confused.

"I reckon the best thing is to owl your parents," Ron offered before Harry even had a chance to open his mouth. "I mean, Professor Lupin might be a complete nutter, or he might be right. The only thing to do is ask for the truth. Then you'll know for sure."

Hermione looked at Ron, surprised. "That… wow, Ronald. I hadn't even thought of that. If I wrote a letter to my parents right now, would either of you be willing to deliver it for me?"

Harry was the first one to answer this time. "You can always use Hedwig, Hermione, you know that. I'll take it and make sure it's delivered once you're finished. Of course." He smiled down at her. "Do you need a quill and parchment? I can provide some if you'd like."

"That would be lovely," Hermione agreed. "I don't have my things with me, as they're still up in my dormitory." When Harry handed her the quill, ink, and bottle, she thanked him sincerely and eagerly began writing her parents.

Ron helped, surprisingly. Every once in a while, he would shake his head and correct her, telling her that her letter either sounded too blunt or too deluding. He modified her sentences where need be, making sure that she knew exactly what to write. Harry only looked on, nodding and agreeing whenever someone asked him something. He had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation, as he had never really valued the Dursleys as his parents and didn't have to worry about whether he was adopted or not….

By the end of the afternoon, Hermione's letter read something like this:

_Mum, Dad,_

_School's been going absolutely great. I've been taking all of the classes I've wanted, and all of the professors have been very helpful. I know it's early in the term to be writing, but I've heard something that has made me a little worried. I was wondering if you could tell me whether I'm adopted or not. A man named Professor Lupin said that I was his real daughter, and that he had given me up to you two. I want to know the truth - owl me back as soon as you can._

_Sincerely, Hermione._

_P.S: Please feed Hedwig with some kind of meat. She deserves it for such a long journey._

"Dinner's going to start soon," Harry observed once they heard the somber tones of the bells outside. "I'll deliver this afterwards. Will we see you tonight in the Common Room, or tomorrow, perhaps?"

Hermione thought about it, and honestly couldn't answer her friends. "I don't know," she whispered.

Harry and Ron nodded, looked at each other, and walked off. They were wishing that there was something either of them could do about Hermione's current predicament, but… they both knew that nothing could really be done. They would just have to wait.

And Hermione hated waiting.

~*----------*~

Sometime during the dinner feast, Madame Pomfrey had told Hermione that she would be free to go. She handed her a small vial of the watered down Wolfsbane, and advised Hermione to drink it before she went to sleep tonight. If she was going to be in any shape to be in classes the next day, she was going to need it. And Hermione believed her.

She didn't feel hungry, so she just went straight up to Gryffindor Common Room. No stops, no pauses. She was thankful that she didn't run into Professor Lupin on her way there - she wasn't sure what she would have done.

All of this was beginning to tear Hermione apart. If her parents, if Mum and Dad… _weren't_ really her parents, what did that leave her with? She didn't know how to react to Professor Lupin, let alone how to treat him like a beloved family member. On top of that small obstacle, how was she supposed to react to her parents? Obviously, if what Professor Lupin had said to her was true, they had been lying to her for her entire life. How was a child meant to cope with such a revelation?

There wasn't anyone in the Common Room when she arrived. Harry and Ron had obviously gone down to dinner, and the rest of the Gryffindors with them. She plopped down onto the couch, setting her vial of Wolfsbane down on the table and ran her hands over her face.

Little did she know that her father had the very same habit.

She wasn't sure how much time passes. It could have been minutes, maybe even hours before Ron and Harry returned. Gryffindors had filtered in and out of the Common Room during that time, none of them bothering to talk to her either because they didn't care or they were scared of the expression on her face. She looked like a madwoman, glaring at the fire as though it had done something wrong.

"I had that letter delivered," Harry offered when he finally sat next to her later that evening. "Hedwig knows where your parents live. You'll have an answer in no time."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione groaned, though she was secretly glad that Harry had returned.

Ron sat ungracefully next to her, propping his feet up on the table in front of the couch as he looked at the fire. "No need to be scared, 'Mione. Your Mum and Dad will be honest with you no matter what. If Professor Lupin turns out to be your long lost dad, so be it."

"But I've _had_ a father all these years," protested a nervous Hermione. "My Dad has always been there for me, and he's loved me. At least, I've thought he's loved me. But if…" She couldn't even finish her statement. She hung her head in her hands, unable to say anything else to her two best friends.

She felt Harry's hand pat her back ever so gently, and she nearly shuddered at the warmth she suddenly felt sprout in her heart. What was happening? She didn't need something else to worry about. Hermione was having enough trouble with the Professor Lupin situation, without all of these thoughts that she might actually be developing a crush on her best friend. She was definitely going mad.

"What's this?" came Ron's curious voice.

Hermione looked up.

Ron was holding her corked vial of Wolfsbane up at eye-level, as though the potion would whisper it's name to him if he held it close enough. He appeared to be looking through the clear liquid, and Hermione snatched it from him and cradled it to her chest. This was a _very_ valuable medicine and she didn't want anyone else touching it.

"No need to get touchy, 'Mione."

"It's… it's a potion to help me sleep at night," Hermione murmured. She tucked the small vial into her robes pocket. "And to stop… well, it's also to stop what happened last night."

"What happened?" asked Harry.

Hermione blinked. Had she really not told Harry and Ron what had happened last night that had led to all of this?

She recounted the story to her two dear friends, neither of whom interrupted again until she had finished. Hermione shuddered to remember just how _out_ of control she had been of her own body. As though someone else had taken over.

"I know what you're thinking, Hermione, and you _weren't_ possessed," Harry told her reassuringly. "You remember everything clearly. Remember that Ginny still can't remember anything about Voldemort possessing her."

Ron and Hermione both winced at his using the Dark Lord's name so carelessly.

"I'm not even entirely sure it's possession," Hermione answered. "It just feels like there's something _wild_ inside of me."

"Wild, eh?" asked Ron with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, be quiet, you crass git," Hermione snapped. She stood up and shook her head. "I think I'd better head off to bed anyway. I want to go to classes tomorrow and I won't be able to if I don't get a good night's rest. Good night, Harry. Ron. See you in the morning."

~*----------*~

It was that morning at breakfast when mail came. Hermione was surprised and frightened to see Hedwig amongst all those owls, carrying a letter in her beak. Swooping by, she dropped the letter ever so skillfully right next to Hermione's plate of eggs and ham. Everyone who was eating around her - namely, Harry and Ron - froze when they saw what had landed next to their dear friend. Ron didn't even seem to notice as Earl clumsily dumped his own home-written letter on his head. Some other students snickered, but Ron didn't notice that either.

With shaky fingers, Hermione took the letter from the table and tore it open. Her meal was forgotten, and left half-eaten.

She opened it and pulled the letter out, looking down at it with horror.

_Hermione Dearest,_

_We had no intentions of you finding out this way. If you would like a full explanation, ask your Headmaster if he will allow you and this Professor Lupin to visit the Muggle world this weekend for a chat. We would rather tell you this in person, and speak to this Lupin character. But it may very well be true that he is your father, as we've never had any children of our own. Please meet us at our favorite diner this Saturday for dinner. Bring Professor Lupin._

_Love, Mum and Dad_

Hermione gasped at what she found on the paper. She was crying even before she finished reading it. Silently, the tears slipped down her cheeks and she stubbornly wiped them away. She didn't want to be seen as such a weakling.

A hand caressing hers looked up. Harry was holding her hand from across the table, his emerald eyes concerned for her. Ron also looked a little worried, bless him, and he hadn't even opened his own letter yet. Hermione found that she was blessed to have such friends. She sniffled and tried to give them a watery smile, but it came out as a grimace instead.

"You'll be alright, Hermione. We'll be here for you, whatever happens," Harry assured her.

Hermione nodded and looked up at the head table to glare at Professor Lupin. This was all his fault. It was his fault her world was coming apart. He was tearing it down.

All of this sudden anger was only covering up her fear.

The fear that he might actually be _right_. The fear that Professor Lupin might be her actual biological father. The fear that her entire life… was a lie.

* * *

**EOC:** Maybe that satisfied you, maybe it didn't. Let me know! The next chapter will, of course, be the meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Granger at the restaurant. I'll see you all again next week! Please review, if you have the time or heart. I love reading them. - Viv


	7. 06: Surrendering Acceptance

Here you are, everyone. The sixth chapter to Daughter of the Moon; even if I did update it on Super Bowl Sunday. Yes, I know! So evil! I have to thank everyone who reviewed once more; I've now hit over fifty! That's more than I ever expected to receive! Thank you so much! In reward, here, this chapter is much longer than the last one - by about two thousand words! (Of course, this is a very important chapter, kind of, and I couldn't cut it short, could I?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. Go Indianapolis Colts! Yes, I live in Indy. And I'm proud, what can I say?

~*----------*~

**Chapter VI**

"You don't have to be afraid of Professor Dumbledore," Harry was urging her as he gently pushed her towards the Headmaster's office on Thursday afternoon. "He'll understand, of course. All you have to do is ask him about this Saturday…"

"Oh, but Harry, I'm sure he has so many other matters to attend to," protested Hermione, looking quite nervous as she clutched the letter from her parents to her chest. "I wouldn't want to disturb him if he's doing something important…"

"Hermione, this _is_ important," Harry reminded her. "It's not every day a witch finds out she's adopted. You _have_ to go and speak to your parents, if that's what they are. You and Lupin _have_ to go. Even if it's to find out this has all been some kind of serious misunderstanding and the Professor turns out to be a complete nutter. Your family is much more important than anything else going on right now. Not even your mark in Transfiguration means as much as this."

Hermione considered this. "Are you sure Dumbledore won't mind?"

"Of course not," was the reassuring answered. "You just have to… Oh, dung, I don't know if he's changed his password or not…"

"Potter? Granger? What are you doing here?"

Hermione and Harry turned to see Professor McGonagall coming towards them with her purposeful stride, her sharp eyes on the pair before her. Instantly, both third years looked sheepish as though they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Professor, we were just leaving…" Hermione began.

"Hermione needs to see Professor Dumbledore," Harry supported at the same time.

Professor McGonagall looked surprised. But when she spotted the letter in Hermione's hands, her eyes narrowed and she seemed to understand. But she didn't say a word, but rather let out a worried sigh. "Mr. Potter, I will escort Miss Granger to Professor Dumbledore's office. Feel free to wait here, but I ask you do not follow us onto the staircase. Come, Miss Granger. _Apple Pop_."

The legendary gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office stepped aside and allowed Professor McGonagall and a very anxious Hermione to pass through onto the staircase.

"I'll be waiting here, Hermione," Harry called after her.

Hermione was about to tell him that wasn't necessary when the gargoyle jumped back into place, blocking her view of her dear friend. Professor McGonagall led her swiftly up the spiral staircase and stopped just outside the door.

"I will wait to conduct my business with the Headmaster until after you have finished, Miss Granger," the reserved Professor informed her as she stepped back. "Go ahead in. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be waiting for you."

Hermione looked at the Professor as though she had grown a second head - how was it possible for the Headmaster to be expecting her? Nevertheless, she followed the Deputy Headmistress's instructions and went inside. It would be the first time she had ever been in Dumbledore's office.

When Harry had described it last year, he had gotten it quite accurate. The room itself was circular, very much like the Gryffindor Common Room, and just as loud, but the noises were strange. Not human voices, or even animals'. Items were whirring, grunting, groaning, and making all sorts of funny little sounds all throughout the room. All around the walls were portraits of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses. In the center of this office was a large, claw-footed desk that had various documents and items scattered across its surface. And sitting behind it in a high-backed throne-like chair, looking at her over half-moon spectacles was Professor Dumbledore himself.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore, as if he _had_ been expecting her arrival. "Please, take a seat. Might I interest you in a Chocolate Frog? I've just got a new shipment and I'm quite afraid I can't eat them all."

Hermione did as she was told. "Er, no thank you, sir," she answered, settling back into one of the two chairs that sat before Dumbledore's desk. "Professor, I was going to ask you permission to visit the Muggle world this weekend. With… Professor Lupin. There's been a bit of confusion…"

"There's a fair bit more than confusion as far as I am concerned, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore interjected suddenly.

"… Sir?"

"I know exactly why you are here, Miss Granger. You are here to request permission to speak with your adopted Muggle parents - to see if Professor Remus Lupin truly is your father. While I can confirm that he is by a mere statement, I know that you, being a girl of logic and integrity, will not only take my word for it. You wish to find out the truth - a noble aspiration for a Gryffindor such as yourself. Of course I will give you permission to visit the Muggle world. I will need to know where you're going, of course."

Hermione blinked, completely shocked by the Headmaster's knowledge. _Then again_, she chided herself mentally, _this _is_ Dumbledore. He does know just about everything._

"On the contrary, Miss Granger, you will find that there is much that I don't know," provided Dumbledore, as though he had read her thoughts. "But I do know a great deal about matters such as this. And I know just how confusing and mind-boggling this whole situation must seem to you."

Hermione flushed a bright red. "It is, sir," she confessed quietly. She knew she could trust Dumbledore almost more than anyone at Hogwarts - besides her best friends, of course.

"Then you must go as your adopted parents ask of you," Dumbledore answered. "But as I said before, I will need to know exactly where you're going and exactly for how long…"

"It shouldn't take more than an hour or two during dinnertime, sir," was Hermione's instant reply. "We'll be at a diner in London. The Dancing Leprechaun is the name. Is that enough information, Professor?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded, smiling. "It will suffice, Miss Granger. I will sign a form that will inform the Ministry of your outing, and I will arrange for transportation to London for you and Professor Lupin. Although, I will leave the informing of your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor to you. You must understand I am very busy with the beginning of term and all the silly and tedious paperwork that accompanies it…"

"Of course, Professor," said Hermione, though she was secretly half-angry and half-scared to have to ask Professor Lupin herself. "Thank you very much."

"There is no need to thank me. I would do the same for any student undergoing such troubling times, Miss Granger. Off you go. I am sure Mr. Potter grows anxious waiting for you down below. Might I say he is a very loyal friend, and you would do well to keep him close," advised the Headmaster.

Hermione nodded. "I understand, sir. Harry is my closest friend. I would never do something to push him away."

"I'm glad. Off you go, Miss Granger."

And so Hermione exited the Headmaster's office with a new sense of anxiety. Professor McGonagall dipped her head to the third year as she walked out, and went inside and shut the door behind her. Hermione sighed and descended the staircase. The gargoyle stepped out of her way so she could exit, but as soon she had passed it, it jumped back into place again to resume its guard.

Harry was sitting against the wall opposite the gargoyle. It seemed as though as soon as he had spotted Hermione, he clambered to his feet.

"Well, what happened?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "Dumbledore's allowing me to go this Saturday," she told her dear friend as she neared him. "But I have to tell Professor Lupin myself about it."

"We could go and see him now, if you'd like," offered Harry.

"I don't think he'll want to see me…"

"Nonsense. If he's your father, then…"

"Can we please not talk about that?"

"Hermione, if we don't…"

"Please, Harry. _Please_. I don't want to think about that right now."

Harry sighed, but didn't argue. "We still ought to go and see Lupin now. Might as well get it over with so you don't have to worry about it."

"You'll go with me?" asked Hermione.

"Of course. If you want me to," Harry replied.

Unable to answer verbally, Hermione just nodded. Harry was right. Worrying about this all week would only cause more strife - something that Hermione was convinced that she didn't need any more of. She hardly had any homework to do, and dinner was still a few hours away. The only thing she could go and go right now was go back up into the Common Room and stay with Harry and Ron, or go outside. Either way seemed to be a little boring.

Perhaps seeing Professor Lupin would be a good idea after all.

So Hermione set off, Harry at her side, and she thought as they walked down the Grand Staircase to the second floor.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that Harry had to tug on her sleeve when they finally reached the Professor's office. Hermione looked up, gulped, and Harry patted her awkwardly on the back.

"You'll be fine. I'll wait out here again. I'm sure you wouldn't want me listening in on the conversation," Harry told her.

Hermione nodded nervously, suddenly feeling much more agitated than she had been a few seconds ago. Harry gave her another reassuring pat before pushing her towards the door.

"Go on," he urged her.

Her hands shaking, Hermione closed the remaining distance between her and the closed door. Ever so hesitant, she raised a fist to knock on the door…

The door opened before Hermione even had a chance to knock. Professor Lupin stood there, looking tired and ruffled as if he had just woken up from a nap. He didn't look at all surprised to see Hermione there, as though he knew she had been outside his door. His eyes were weary as he gazed down at her, and that same emotion ignited in his eyes that Hermione had seen every time they made eye contact. She still wasn't completely sure if it was love or some other emotion that she didn't care to look into.

"I, er… I wrote a letter to my parents," Hermione whispered.

Lupin's eyes widened and gestured for her to come in. Looking at Harry, he dipped his head in gratitude (somehow he knew that it had been Harry to convince her to come here) before shutting the door behind his daughter.

"Would you, er… like to sit down?" he offered, pulling out a chair from his desk.

Hermione shook her head. "I want to just say what I've come to say and leave," she murmured, looking towards the door almost wistfully.

Lupin sighed. He had been hoping that she had wanted to stay, to find out more about him and he about her. But that was obviously not her wish. It was also obvious that she was having trouble comprehending everything. Those Grangers must have loved her a lot in order to have her so confused right now.

Not that he wasn't grateful. He would never be able to thank the Grangers enough for their kind service to him and Hermione.

But oh, how he wished she knew, accepted, and understood the truth. All things take time, as Vivian had always said, and never did Lupin believe that words were so true. He had observed his daughter over the years, and he knew that she would not just accept this right away. He had hoped, of course, but in the end he had known she would take it in such a manner.

Hermione, on the other hand, was a little surprised by her possible father's demeanor. He seemed so exhausted, but she expected was it was from all of this full moon business. She remembered that he had said she was the daughter of a werewolf, and that werewolves were only active around the full moon. Hermione found herself wanting to ask him about the full moon, about his lycanthrope form. But she knew she had other business to discuss with him. She didn't want it to seem as though she were _too_ interested.

"It's like I said. I wrote my… well, my parents about this." Hermione peeked up at Professor Lupin. He only blinked at her and didn't say anything, so she continued. "They said they want to meet us at their favorite diner this weekend. I went to Dumbledore about it, and he's given us permission to go."

"What time?"

Hermione frowned. She hadn't expected Lupin to respond so casually to this. _Maybe it's because he really _is_ your father and he isn't worried about proving himself at all,_ a snide voice in the back of her head commented. Hermione shushed it and shoved it into the far corner of her mind.

"Around dinnertime. My parents will be waiting at a diner in London," Hermione informed him.

Professor Lupin only nodded, looking at her calculatingly.

"And you… how are you doing, Hermione?" he asked, true concern in his voice.

Hermione was caught off guard by it. "What?"

"How are you coping? With everything? Are you feeling quite well?"

"Er… yeah. As well as I can be, I suppose," Hermione muttered uncomfortably, scuffing her foot across the floor.

Professor Lupin observed her for a moment more. "You don't have to talk about it if that isn't what you want," he murmured. "I only want you to talk to me when you want it or need it, not out of duty. I'll see you in class on Friday, if not before then." He nodded in dismissal.

Hermione got out of that office as quickly as she could without running.

She didn't hear the regretful sigh from Professor Lupin as she shut the door behind her.

~*----------*~

The week passed quicker than Hermione wanted it to. Defense Against the Dark Arts class on Friday was painless and fast. Ron and Harry were exceedingly supportive, and for the first time in a long time, they were accompanying her to the library to help her with homework and making sure she was alright every night before she went to bed. Never before had Hermione seen such behavior in her two best friends before, but she most definitely didn't mind it.

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, sooner than Hermione cared to admit. She'd hardly gotten any sleep last night, tossing and turning the way she was with all the thoughts going through her head. She had no idea what today would bring. That's what she hated.

Would she find out that what Professor Lupin said was true? That her parents weren't really… her parents? That she wasn't a Granger, as she was so proud to be, but a Lupin?

Or would she find out that Professor Lupin was a complete lunatic? That he had been lying this entire time, putting her through all this strife for nothing?

Both ideas were completely terrifying.

"Hermione?" the voice of Ron drifted up the stairs, and Hermione raised her head from her pillow. "Are you up yet?"

Hermione groaned. Though she _was_ up, she didn't feel like climbing out of bed. So _this_ was how other girls felt on school days. They didn't want to face the day ahead of them, so they stayed in bed as long as possible in the hopes of being forgotten under their covers…

But Hermione was not a coward. She was a Gryffindor. And, remembering that, she rose from her bed with newfound courage, pulled on fresh clothes, and went downstairs to meet Ron.

When she found him in the warm Common Room, Hermione found that Harry wasn't there. So she asked,

"Where's Harry?"

"Quidditch tryouts were first thing this morning. They'll probably still be going. You missed breakfast. Want to head down to the Quidditch pitch and see how Harry's doing?" Ron offered.

Hermione nodded eagerly. Anything to forget about the meeting with her parents tonight. "That would be lovely," was her answer, and Ron beamed.

"Oh, on your way down there, you can eat this." Ron tossed her a wrapped bagel. "Harry said you would like that. Come on." And he went to the entrance to the Common Room without even missing a beat.

Hermione unwrapped the bagel and smiled. It was blueberry, her favorite. How had Harry known?

She and Ron went down to the Pitch, and sure enough, Quidditch tryouts were still going on. It looked like they were on Beater tryouts now, which mean that Seeker would be next. Ron and Hermione hurried to find seats, although it wasn't too hard. The only people here were very interested Gryffindors who wanted to see what their Quidditch team would look like this year.

Harry wasn't too hard to spot. Hermione saw him standing at the edge of the pitch having a discussion with the Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood. He was wearing an old red sweater and a pair of faded jeans.

After the tryouts ended an hour later, it wasn't hard to see that Harry would once again be Seeker. Hermione's stomach was also growling when everything finished up, and thankfully the lunch bells began ringing just as Harry came out from the locker rooms. His hair was ruffled from the wind blowing through it, and he had a bright and happy smile on his face. The sight of it sent butterflies flitting through Hermione's stomach.

_Stop it,_ she told her own body, and it obeyed instantly. The butterflies settled, but started flitting again when Harry threw his arms around her in a great hug.

"I'm so happy I made it," he exclaimed when he finally let go.

"Please, mate, as if anyone could beat you on a broom," Ron scoffed as he slapped Harry on the back.

Harry shrugged, still grinning. "Come on, let's go get lunch."

And so they did. As they were eating (Hermione had a considerable amount of food on her plate - even Ron didn't have that much to eat), Professor Lupin approached them.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to meet us outside the Great Hall just before dinner starts," he muttered, and walked straight on.

Hermione gulped, and set down her piece of bread. Her appetite, and her good morning, had vanished into thin air.

~*----------*~

Hermione, dressed in a pair of jeans and a striped t-shirt, made her way down the Grand Staircase to the Entrance Hall, Harry and Ron at her sides. Though they had both denied that they wanted to offer her moral support, and that they just wanted to be early for dinner, Hermione knew that wasn't true. Never had she realized that they could be such good friends. Harry even had an arm wrapped around her shoulders, which made Hermione feel very safe and secure. For a moment, she wasn't even afraid of seeing her parents.

Of course, the bravado disappeared the instant Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lupin came into view. They were talking quietly as she approached with her two friends, but Professor Lupin turned to smile at her reassuringly. Hermione just blinked, and Harry's arm tightened around her shoulders.

Professor Lupin only narrowed his eyes when he saw that.

Dumbledore smiled serenely at the trio as they came closer. "Ah, Miss Granger has arrived. Although, Harry and Ron, I can not allow you to accompany Professor Lupin and Granger…"

"We know," Harry volunteered.

"We, uh, wanted to be early for dinner, Professor," Ron supported.

Professor Dumbledore chuckled, and he smiled at Harry and Ron warmly. "Then get into the Great Hall, boys. I'll be sure to start supper as soon as these two are safely on their way."

"Sure you'll be alright, Hermione?" Harry asked as he turned to his dearest friend.

Hermione nodded, unable to speak right now. Harry gave her a hug, and so did Ron (admittedly, his was a tad awkward), and the two of them headed off into the Great Hall, leaving the Headmaster alone with the Professor and the nervous Gryffindor.

"I've arranged for a Portkey to be created. Here you are." Dumbledore handed Professor Lupin an old baseball. "It'll be transporting you two in a little less than a moment. When you're ready to return to Hogwarts in an hour or two, Professor Lupin, you know how to reactivate it. All ready? Excellent. Now, I must start dinner if you'll excuse me." And he departed into the Great Hall.

Hermione grabbed onto the baseball the instant Dumbledore was gone, being careful not to make contact with Professor Lupin's hand that was also grasping the baseball. They both held on tight, both silent, except for at the last second when Professor Lupin began to say,

"I'm so sorry about…"

He didn't finish his sentence. They were whisked into teleportation the instant the word 'about' left his lips, and they exited less than a split second later in an abandoned London alleyway.

Dogs barking nearby caused Hermione to jump, and Professor Lupin pulled her to him instantly, holding her head to his chest as he tried to sense if there was any danger. As soon as they realized what they had done, the pair of them jumped apart awkwardly, and Hermione swallowed and let out a nervous chuckle. They exited the alleyway together, and Hermione looked around.

It wasn't hard to find her parents' favorite restaurant. Hermione had been to the Dancing Leprechaun quite a few times in her childhood, and remembered always wanting to dance when her parents told her what it was called. But right now, she felt like doing anything but dancing.

"Shall we go in? Will your… will the Grangers be inside?" Professor Lupin questioned.

"They should be," Hermione murmured, glancing down at her watch. "This is usually when we eat dinner at home."

Professor Lupin only nodded, and together they went inside.

"Granger, party of four," Hermione informed the hostess as Lupin stood awkwardly behind her, not knowing how a Muggle restaurant worked.

The hostess nodded, glanced at Lupin nervously, and gestured for them to follow her. "This way," she informed Hermione and Lupin, and together the three of them ventured into the back of the restaurant to one of the more secluded booths.

Sitting there were Mr. and Mrs. Granger, holding hands and looking quite anxious themselves.

As Hermione approached, the pair of them got up to greet her.

"Hermione, dear, I'm so glad to see you," Mrs. Granger gushed as she wrapped her daughter into a warm enveloping hug. Mr. Granger wrapped them both in a hug, his eyes on Lupin calculatingly. When the small family of three finally unraveled, Mr. Granger offered his hand to the grizzled Professor.

"Professor Lupin, I take it?" he asked as Lupin took his hand and they shook.

"The very same," Lupin replied. Their tones were not menacing or threatening - only polite. Hermione watched their interaction very closely from her mother's arms, trying to see that there was some way that what Professor Lupin had been saying was false. But to her horror, she found none. There was only mutual respect between the two men, and even Mrs. Granger seemed to view Lupin with a certain air that definitely wasn't hostile.

"Sit down, sit down, please," Mr. Granger invited them, gesturing for Hermione to sit down and Professor Lupin beside her. Mrs. Granger and her husband took seats across from them, and just as Mr. Granger was about to begin talking, the waitress showed up.

"Hi, my name is Melissa, and I'll be your server this evening. Anything I can get you to drink?"

All four of them ordered waters, and the waitress was gone in the next instant to fetch their drinks.

"Now, Mr. Lupin…"

"Call me Remus, please. I hate for this to be so formal."

"Alright then… Remus. Then you may call me John, and this is my wife, Tricia," Mr. Granger answered, and Mrs. Granger dipped her head in acknowledgement. After Lupin had also dipped his head in greeting, Mr. Granger continued. "Now, I don't suppose you could give us any proof that Hermione really is your daughter? That you're the one who left her on our doorstep?"

"Wait." All eyes went to Hermione, who looked suddenly very afraid and almost nauseous. "Are you saying that I'm not your daughter? That I _am_ adopted?"

"Sweetie, we realize we ought to have told you _much_ sooner. But your father and I, we… we were going to wait until you were of age. I've never been able to have children. Your father wanted a daughter, or a son, so badly and I wished that I could have given him one. But you came along one night, crying on our doorstep, with a note on your blanket explaining that whoever put you there couldn't take care of you. We took you in and went through all of the adoption processes. When your original parents didn't show up, we were allowed to take complete custody of you," Mrs. Granger explained, reaching across the table to take her daughter's hand.

Hermione yanked it out of her mother's reach. "I need to use the loo," she gasped, and practically shoved her way past Lupin before she speedily walked to the nearest restroom.

"I'll go speak with her," Mrs. Granger offered, and got up to go after her adopted daughter.

Mr. Granger ran his hands over his face. "This wasn't the way it was supposed to go," he groaned in exhaustion. These past few nights had been difficult for him, especially since Hermione had written the letter.

"Things rarely go the way we mean them to," Lupin pointed out just as the waitress, Melissa, returned with their drinks.

"Are you ready to order? Or should I wait until the ladies return?" she asked.

"We'll wait," Mr. Granger told her, and the waitress disappeared again.

Mr. Granger and Professor Lupin stayed quiet only for a few seconds after the waitress left, when Mr. Granger said,

"Is there any way you can honestly prove that you're Hermione's biological father? I love her very much, you must understand, even if she isn't my own daughter I feel as though she is."

Professor Lupin nodded. "I understand completely. I have her wizarding birth log here with me, along with her birth certificate from St. Mungo's. I can show you my handwriting if you wish to see if it matches with the letter that Hermione had with her when she was found," he offered.

"I have it here," Mr. Granger replied, pulling out said letter from his jeans pocket.

In return, Lupin pulled out his own proof and handed it to Mr. Granger. The Muggle man looked it over, and with each passing second his belief that this man really was Hermione's father grew stronger. There was no way to question official documents such as this. And the handwriting matched to boot. Either this man truly was her father, or he simply had a _lot_ of information on Hermione.

"Where's her mother, then? This… this Vivian Lupin?" asked Mr. Granger.

"Dead." Lupin answered the question just as quickly with Mr. Granger as he had with Hermione. "She was murdered when Hermione was… when she was still in our care. I can summon her death certificate if you would prefer." Lupin truly hoped that Mr. Granger was convinced enough. He didn't think he could stand it if he once again saw the proof that Vivian was gone from his life.

"Ah. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"I understand. You meant no harm."

Conversation subsided for a few minutes, and the booth was suddenly doused in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. It was broken when Mrs. Granger returned from the bathroom with Hermione at her side. The thirteen-year-old was wiping tears away from her chocolate brown eyes, and Lupin winced at the sight of her. He hadn't meant to cause so much grief and pain. Admitted, this wasn't entirely his fault, as the Grangers obviously hadn't told Hermione a thing, but he still felt somewhat responsible for her torn state.

Lupin got up to let Hermione in on his side. He expected her to remain frosty towards him, but instead she looked up at him with watery eyes and murmured, "Sorry." She slid in and Lupin sat down beside her, bewildered by her statement.

Hermione caught sight of the certificates and everything, and instantly pulled them toward her. She looked them over with a scrutinizing eye, as if to ensure their legality. Then she looked up at Professor Lupin. There was almost a defeated expression in her eyes, as though she was too tired to question the fact that Lupin was her father anymore.

"So, this… this Vivian Lupin is my mother?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"_Was_, if you'll remember what I told you at the Hospital Wing," Lupin reminded her.

"Oh." Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "What happened to her?"

"I'd rather not discuss it in a public place. It was rather… gruesome." Lupin scowled and shook his head, trying to clear those memories from his mind. "And I'm not sure how much Mr. and Mrs. Granger know about the wizarding world… I mean no offense by that, by the way."

"No, no," Mr. Granger supplied. "Tricia and I both know that there will be things about our… about Hermione that we will never truly understand. We take no offense whatsoever." He smiled, and Professor Lupin smiled in return.

And that seemed to be all that happened that evening. It was obvious that Mr. and Mrs. Granger believed that Professor Lupin was Hermione's true father. They asked him questions, things a father ought to know about their child. And he answered each question without hesitation and with complete honesty. As their time together wore on, the doubts any of them had about Professor Lupin slowly withered away.

Even Hermione couldn't deny that she was beginning to see the Professor in a new light.

She didn't see him as her father yet, but no longer was he really a source of stress. He was kind to her, never pushed or pressed her about things. In fact, most of the time he didn't even speak to her, which suited Hermione just fine. She was happy just to observe him with her parents. The conversation became laid-back after a while, and even while they were eating, it didn't subside into an awkward silence.

Professor Lupin of course noticed this too. But he wasn't nearly as bothered by Hermione's silence as some men might be. In fact, there was a new way in which she carried herself around him. At the beginning of the night, she was tense and almost hostile towards him. There was no sense of that hostility now, even if he could tell she hadn't fully accepted this yet.

But it was a start.

* * *

EOC: There we go! Now, Hermione doesn't really hate Lupin anymore, but she still has a ways to go. After all, this is very hard for her to accept, so don't be too angry with her! And more brotherly adorableness from Harry and Ron. They have to be useful for something, don't they? Well, I hope that green little button below looks somewhat appealing to you at this point, so please review! I know there were two or three I didn't respond to this time around - but I found them really late last night and I was uber tired. o_O Sorry! Love you all, and go Colts! May the best team win! (coughhopefullytheColtscough)


	8. 07: Vivian and Faraway Danger

I know, I know. I missed last week's update and everything - and it was Valentine's Day which meant you guys all should have gotten something extra. But you didn't. I hang my head in shame. Not to mention I don't think I replied to any reviews this time again either. Gah. Real life's caught up with me, chaps, and it isn't pretty. Our spring musical is taking up most of my life, and since it's never been done before (literally, it's going to be the WORLD PREMIERE of this monster) we have to make changes to the music and it makes it all the more difficult to learn and therefore a lot longer to practice and memorize. Anyway, I know you're looking forward to a new chapter, and I hope you all like this one. So, to make up for missing last week and not replying to any reviews, I have a little surprise for you all at the end of the chapter. And, if you can listen to classical music without clawing your ears off, I've got an even better surprise.

Remember the prologue, and how Lupin gave Hermione away? Well, I've found a song that sounds absolutely perfect for Lupin's goodbye to Hermione before he leaves her on the doorstep. It's called "There Will Come Soft Rains" and I will have the link at the bottom. It's absolutely gorgeous and if you think about what's happening during the song it might make you cry. So onward with a chapter you all rightfully deserve!

~*----------*~

**Chapter VII**

Dinner ended with hugs and warm handshakes, and fairly good emotions all around. Even Hermione was a lot happier than she had been before.

"We'll see you at Christmas," Tricia Granger assured her daughter, wrapping her in a tight hug. "That is, if you want to come home. We understand that you must be angry for all of this…"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Hermione answered gravely, and glanced at Professor Lupin. His expression was passive, almost calculating, and she wondered what he was thinking. "I love you both very much. Even though you may not be my real parents, I… there will always be a place for you in my life. I can't wait for Christmas."

"Then you must understand that this means you're invited too, Remus," John Granger told the slightly older man as they firmly shook hands. "You're Hermione's family, which means you're family to us."

Lupin just smiled and dipped his head. "I'll do my best to make it," he promised, not giving him a pure acceptance.

Mr. Granger just nodded and grinned, unable to see the hesitation in Lupin's eyes. Mrs. Granger also gave him a hug, offering her own farewells and invitations for Christmas while Mr. Granger hugged his adopted daughter and kissed her on the forehead. Professor Lupin looked away for a moment, unable to prevent that wave of jealousy from rising at the sight of it. If only Hermione trusted _him_ so much to allow him to show his affection.

But then again, Lupin hadn't really told her a few nights before just how much she meant to him.

She was everything that made his world worth living. Though he had not been an active part of her life, he had always been waiting in the wings, making sure she was alright. Protecting her when need be. She had absolutely no idea how, for the first few years of living with the Grangers, many Death Eaters had come to kill her because of him, or because of James and Lily. The Lupins had been one of the closest families to the Potters, especially since Vivian and Lily had gotten on so well at school, and he and James were the best of friends. But it hadn't escaped the Death Eaters' notice either.

But ever since those failed attempts on Hermione's life, Lupin had always been there. In the shadows, just outside her property during her small birthday parties that were usually only family. It hurt him to know that as a younger child, Hermione didn't have any Muggle friends. Had she grown up with him, they would have lived in Godric's Hollow where there would have been plenty of young witches her age she could have talked to…

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione's hesitant voice brought him back to reality. "I'm sure supper's ended, and Professor Dumbledore will be wondering where we are if we don't return soon…"

"Of course, of course," Professor Lupin said, mentally kicking himself for running away with his rampant thoughts. He smiled one more time at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, both of whom smiled back, and led Hermione out of the restaurant and back onto the crowded Muggle street.

Lupin looked around bewilderingly. How were so many Muggles active at this time of day… night, actually? He would think they would all be home by now, tucked in warm safe beds. Instead they were out and about, some laughing with friends while the others looked rather serious like they had jobs to do. It became clear to him that he obviously misunderstood Muggles. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Granger could have known what had happened to Vivian after all…

"Professor Lupin, where should we go?" Hermione was now asking him.

Lupin looked down at her. "Back to where we Portkeyed to this place. We can't afford any Muggles seeing us."

Hermione nodded and went with Professor Lupin. They matched each other's pace stride for stride, looking almost identical in the way they carried themselves. In the Muggle world, they were at risk of being found out. They would both be at ease as soon as they were back within Hogwarts walls.

They crept into the alleyway where they'd come from at the beginning of the evening. Professor Lupin pulled out the weathered baseball from his jeans pocket (he had indeed been wearing Muggle clothes for tonight's dinner), and whispered, "_Portus_." Then, he added quickly, "Grab on, Hermione."

She did so instantly.

The second she did, they were whisked away into time and space for only a few seconds before they both found themselves standing in Hogsmeade.

"Why aren't we in Hogwarts?" Hermione questioned.

"Hogwarts wards are up," Professor Lupin answered, instantly stiff and rigid. "We should have been Portkeyed straight back to the Great Hall. Something's wrong at the castle. Somebody's put the physical wards up to prevent anyone from entering."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You don't think Harry was hurt, do you? That Sirius Black is out to get him, isn't he?"

Lupin winced at the mention of his old friend. He honestly didn't know if Sirius had escaped from Azkaban to come and kill Harry or not, but that small part of his mind that was convinced of Black's innocence screamed that this couldn't be true - that Sirius would never be able to try and murder James's only son. And he also didn't know if this sudden commotion about the borders had to do with Harry or not.

"Come on," he said to Hermione. "Keep close. We'll see if there's someone to tell us what's going on. If not, I'll send an owl to the castle and ask what's going on."

Hermione nodded and came close to his side just as he had requested. Surprised by her obedience, Lupin blinked but smiled slightly. He then continued to head for the Hogwarts gates, and all the while Hermione stayed close to his side. As they went, Lupin's thoughts began to wander.

What _had_ happened at Hogwarts to make Dumbledore put wards up? If the Headmaster had done such a thing that had to have meant that something had gone horribly wrong. He sincerely hoped that they were faring well without him, and he felt a stab of guilt in his gut. He realized that he should have been there as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As he had taken up that post, it _was_ his job to take care of situations like this. He knew that Dumbledore would excuse him, but that didn't make Lupin feel any less guilty.

"Professor? There's something at the gate," came Hermione's voice from his side.

Professor Lupin looked up to see that Hermione was right. There was a barn owl waiting there for them at the gates, sitting atop one of the four stone creatures that supposedly guarded the entrance. As the pair of them approached, it held out its leg. Apparently the message was for them.

Bewildered, Lupin untied the note from the owl's leg and opened it to read it. For Hermione's sake, he read it out loud.

"_There has been evidence that Sirius Black has been in the castle of Hogwarts. We've shut down all the entrances and exits around the grounds, and we can't afford to have them open for any amount of time in case Black might escape. Dumbledore has made arrangements for you to stay at the Three Broomsticks tonight. We are quite sorry for the inconvenience, and we will see you tomorrow. Minerva McGonagall._"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed frantically. "He could have been hurt, and he still might _be_ hurt! How do they expect me to sleep when he could be in danger… when any one of my friends could be in danger?"

"You'll have to try," Professor Lupin murmured, troubled by the news. "There's no telling when we'll be able to go back to the castle."

"But…"

"I understand that your friends are in danger, and that you're worried about them," Lupin told her. "Believe me, I do more than almost anyone you'll meet, but… Hermione, I need you to sleep. If there is danger, you have to be rested."

"What about you?"

"I'm much more active at night than you may think. Staying awake won't be a difficulty for me."

Hermione frowned, doubtful, but knew that she had no choice. Professor Lupin led her to the Three Broomsticks. Hermione had not yet been in Hogsmeade, even though there was her first upcoming trip soon. When they entered, they were greeted with warm, welcoming air with the delicious scent of what seemed like… butterscotch. But Lupin didn't let her stop. Her put a gentle guiding hand on her back and led her towards the bar, where a woman was cleaning the last of her empty mugs.

The entire place was empty, save the bartender, Lupin, and Hermione.

"Madame Rosmerta?"

The barkeeper looked up and just snorted. "Upstairs, third door to your right."

"Thank you."

And once again they were off.

Lupin guided Hermione through the empty pub, taking her up the wooden staircase. They said nothing to each other as they entered the small but warm room upstairs. Immediately Hermione took a seat next to the window. Lupin assumed it was because she was trying to see Hogwarts, as if she could protect her friends by keeping an eye out for danger on he grounds. He smiled and chuckled to himself.

He was just beginning to get the bed ready for her when Hermione surprised him.

"Professor Lupin?"

He looked up, bewildered but delighted that she was addressing him. "Yes? What is it?"

"I was wondering… well, since it seems you _are_ my father after all… I was wondering if you could… could tell me about my… my mother," Hermione murmured. Never before had she been so unsure of herself when asking a question.

Lupin blinked. "You want to know about her?"

Hermione nodded, turning away from the window and curling her knees to her chest. She looked at him expectantly and Lupin ran his fingers through his hair. Remembering Vivian was particularly painful for him, especially remembering the way she'd died. Perhaps, though, he could avoid that part of the story and keep to the happy times for Hermione. After all, she didn't _need_ to hear the gruesome tale. She only wanted to know about Vivian. What she was like, how she would have felt about Hermione. Right?

Before he could stop himself, Lupin was speaking about her freely. He sat down on the bed that he had been preparing for Hermione and smiled as he recalled her. "Her name was Vivian McGinnis, before she married me, of course. She was in my year, and very good friends with Harry's mother. She… she was very beautiful, I remember. I was a very lucky young man for her to fall in love with me." _Especially regarding who I am,_ he thought.

"What did she look like?"

He could still picture her as clearly as if he had just seen her an hour ago. "She had beautiful strawberry blond hair. In the right light, there were tints of red in it - especially in the summer. She was tall, almost as tall as me, very willowy and lean. I remember she was a very fast runner, a lot of muscle in her legs…" Lupin cut himself off before he started talking about something that wasn't quite suitable for Hermione's ears. Instead, he continued, "But the things I remember most about her were her eyes and her smile."

Lupin looked over to see Hermione smiling. He could just see her picturing what Vivian had looked like, but he doubted that she could ever picture the true beauty of what his late wife had actually looked like. "What about them? What made them so special?" Hermione asked. There was no sarcasm in her voice, only eagerness.

"Her eyes were the deepest chocolate brown. I could drown myself in them, they were so beautiful. And her smile…" Lupin closed his eyes and pictured her, bringing his own smile to his face. "Goodness, it was such a wonder. It could brighten up anyone's day. And her laugh… I would always do my best to make little jokes so I could hear that laugh. It's a wonder she picked to be with me out of all the other boys in our year. Goodness knows she had the entire Quidditch team after her."

"Quidditch team?"

"Oh, yes. Your mother was a very skilled Quidditch player. Unlike me - I hate heights and flying in general." Lupin winked, and Hermione smiled. "She was a Chaser, the only girl on the team when she tried out and made it. Harry's father, James, was the captain, and everyone thought that he was sexist for the longest time because there weren't any girls on the team. Until Vivian joined, anyway. I used to go to their practices under the pretense of seeing my friends, when instead I would just watch Vivian fly. She handled the ball very well. She was very good at everything she did."

Lupin paused, looking at Hermione with a scrutinizing expression. Finally, he stated, "You have her eyes. And her smile, you know." He had already known this, but he felt it needed to be said.

Hermione looked down, fiddling with her hands. "Would I like her?"

"Like her? Hermione, you would have loved her. She was a charming, charismatic young woman, and very bright. Not unlike yourself."

"I don't know about charming and charismatic."

"Why not?"

"The only real friends I have at school are Harry and Ron, and maybe Ron's little sister Ginny," Hermione answered quietly. She looked uncomfortable talking about this. "Everyone else thinks I'm a know-it-all. I just like knowing things, and getting answers right in class."

"Vivian was the same way when she was your age," Lupin pointed out.

Hermione brightened. "Honestly?"

"Honestly. The only ones that could stand to be around your mother were her two friends. Alice and Lily."

"Which one is Harry's mother?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Lily."

"Ah." Hermione then frowned in confusion. "Who was Alice?"

"Alice Longbottom, but I don't think I should go too far into that venture. It isn't my story to tell what happened to Mrs. Longbottom," Professor Lupin answered, looking down at the floor.

"Tell me more about her."

"About whom? Vivian or Lily?"

"My mum."

Professor Lupin nodded. "What else would you like to know?"

"How did you two meet?"

Lupin chuckled. "It was an accident, really. We met for the very first time on the Hogwarts Express first year. She was looking for a compartment, and so was I. We weren't looking and ran into each other. She fell, but I didn't. She'd had a cat, I remember, instead of an owl, and in the fall the cat's cage's door came loose and the cat climbed out of the basket and sat right on Vivian's stomach. I remember laughing at her and the cat… oh, and then she went off on me. A complete tirade with all the bloody works. Insults, chidings, all sorts of stuff. That's actually how I met Harry's father and…" Lupin didn't want to mention that one of his old best friends was Sirius Black. "I… that's how we all met, actually."

"How did Mum screaming at you introduce you and Harry's father?" came the next question.

"He stuck his head out into the compartment and told us to keep down. Then Vivian yelled at him too before storming off with that blasted cat in her arms. James just grinned at me and told me to get in the compartment before she came back. I did, and I didn't see her again until after the Sorting Ceremony."

"Was she in Gryffindor?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that, didn't I?"

Suddenly Lupin snapped out of his half dazed, half wistful state and stood up. He gestured to the bed. "Now you should get some rest, Hermione. Please?"

Hermione sighed, but didn't argue this time. She stood and took off her Hogwarts robes and shoes and curled up in the bed in just her school uniform and socks. She pulled the covers around her and tucked herself in. She closed her eyes, and Lupin had just turned to the window when he heard her whisper,

"Good night… Dad."

Lupin felt some rather unmanly tears gather in his eyes as he turned to face his daughter. She was already asleep. Feeling a bout of fatherly love, Lupin swept over to the bed and kissed his daughter's hair.

"Sweet dreams, my sweetling," he whispered right back, and returned to the window to keep watch.

~*----------*~

"Oh, Harry! You're alright!"

Hermione threw her arms around her best friend the next morning after Professor Lupin had gone to speak with Dumbledore, so relieved that he was unharmed and alive and well. He and Ron were both looking very tired, and Harry was pale as if something were still upsetting him. _Of course there's something upsetting him_, Hermione chided herself. _The man who's trying to kill him was in this very castle. He was so close to death, practically_.

"Hey, 'Mione," Harry grumbled. Ron echoed the greeting in an equally tired tone.

"What happened? What did I miss?"

"Only Harry's murderer getting in and out of the castle without a trace," Ron supplied, sounding sarcastic. Hermione glared at him. One look at her face had him explaining without difficulty. "Black got into the castle, nobody knows how, and tried to get into the Gryffindor Tower. Attacked the Fat Lady's portrait, and nobody could get in or out of there. So Dumbledore had us all sleep in the Great Hall. And with girl's gossiping every which way and guys talking about how brilliant Black must be to get into Hogwarts, it isn't too easy getting any sleep."

"Oh, are you two completely alright?" Hermione asked anxiously, eyes wide in fear.

Harry nodded. "You don't have to worry, Hermione. We're both fine." Then he grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her and Ron off to the side into a corner of the Entrance Hall where they wouldn't be overheard. "But do you have any idea how he could have gotten in and out of the castle?"

"Could he have Apparated in? Dean was talking about that last night. Or maybe a disguise, or maybe he flew in…" Ron was listing off all the options with his fingers.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, really, am I the only one who's read _Hogwarts: A History_ on here?" she demanded.

"Yeah, probably."

She glared at Ron, who instantly shut up, and Hermione lowered her voice to explain.

"This school is protected by more than just _walls_, you idiots. There's all kinds of enchantments to protect the school, so people can't get into the school by stealth. And honestly, Ronald, a disguise? I doubt any disguise, no matter how exquisite it is, could get Sirius Black past the dementors. They don't have eyes to see, they just recognize someone by their soul. And they would have felt it too if he'd flown in. They're guarding every entrance to the grounds. And since Filch knows where all the secret passages are, authorities would have found him by now if he'd been hiding in one of those."

"They weren't my ideas," Ron grumbled.

"Either way, he's gone now, isn't he?" Harry said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Dumbledore just told us that we can go back to the dormitory now. Want to come with us?"

"Yes, please," Hermione replied. "I need to bathe. I haven't changed my clothes in what feels like forever and I'm sure I smell."

She was surprised when Harry leaned in close, sniffed her once, and grinned. "You don't smell bad to me," he offered, which made Hermione blush. "You smell like roses."

"Oh, I forgot!" Ron exclaimed. "You had dinner with your Muggle parents and Lupin last night, didn't you?"

Hermione watched Harry's eyes light up in excitement. "Oh, yeah, I did forget. How did it go? Is everything alright with you?"

"As well as it can be," Hermione answered, and she continued to tell them all just how the dinner had gone.

* * *

Now, here would be the snippet I promised you:

**How Vivian and Lupin First Met**

"Now, remember, Vivian, your father and I love you and we'll write every week," gushed a young mother, who was kissing her young eleven-year old daughter all over her forehead almost in a protective manner.

"_Muuuum_," the young girl whined, pushing away her mother and wiping her forehead off with her brand new Hogwarts roes. "Stop. All the kids won't like me if you keep kissing me."

The young mother laughed and just put a small cat carrier in the girl's hands. "Now you take good care of Artemis and make sure that he gets plenty of food. I'll give this to a train loader. Go get on and find a seat. Go on, go on! Remember that I love you very much! Have fun at school, dearest!"

"Bye, Mum!" Vivian shrieked in excitement as she dashed off to the train with her cat carrier in her arms.

She clambered aboard the scarlet Hogwarts Express, her chocolate brown eyes bright and cheerful. This was so exciting! With her father being a wizard, and her mother a Muggle, Vivian was very proud to be going to Hogwarts. It had been the first time her father had ever really shown any true emotion in her life. He worked at the Ministry as something called an Unspeakable. So he was always at work and when he was home he could never talk about it. It tore their family up, but luckily Vivian's mother was a strong woman who could handle it. But it'd had a tough impact on young Vivian.

So if her father was happy that she was going to Hogwarts, anyone could bet Vivian was probably the most excited girl on the train.

Which is probably why she wasn't watching where she was going as she desperately tried to find new friends and a compartment to sit in.

"Oof!" Vivian exclaimed when she ran into someone and fell back onto the floor in a tangle of limbs and robes. In the frenzy, the latch to Artemis's cage popped open and the cat slid right out.

The person who Vivian had run into was still standing, and started to laugh when Artemis unceremoniously climbed onto her owner and sat down right on her chest, looking down at Vivian's face with amused amber eyes, if a tortoiseshell cat would be amused.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, running into someone like that," Vivian snapped at the boy, who immediately sobered up when he realized she didn't like being laughed at. "I could have been hurt! Or maybe Artemis! Is that what your mother taught you, to laugh at people when you knock them down? I bet that's against Hogwarts rules to make fun of people like that…"

As she went on her little tirade, she noticed how the boy looked. Ragged sandy brown hair, deep amber eyes. And he looked small and shy, very much like she knew she would after they arrived at Hogwarts. She was too young then to realize just how handsome he was.

"Oi!" A raven-hared boy stuck his head out from a compartment two yards down. "Pipe it down! We're trying to play a game of Wizard's Snap!"

"Bugger off!" Vivian shouted right back before picking up her cat with a huff and striding purposefully down the corridor.

She didn't see that boy again until they were both seated at the Gryffindor table that night.

* * *

EOC: There you are! Now for my favorite part: giving you guys the link to that song. Just to explain, I kind of pictured it raining when Lupin gave Hermione away, cause we all know in movies it always rains when something sad happens. So in the song, there are actual rainsticks and something like a wooden block to make it sound like it's raining through the piece. I implore you to listen to it and tell me what you think. Because I absolutely love this composer and this song just gives me goosebumps every time I listen to it. So, delete the spaces in the link, 'cause FanFiction doesn't like us putting actual links in our posts. Copy, paste, and delete all spaces. Please listen to the song, I beg of you! It's SOOOOO beautiful. ( http: // . ? stno=355676 ) (Don't copy and paste the parentheses. I hope you all enjoyed everything, and I do hope I'll be able to update again next weekend. Thank you all! Love you too (in that weird author loves her fans kind of way). - Viv


	9. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

I know, I know. You guys have been waiting for an update for two weeks now. And I'm a rotten author to not have responded to several reviews, especially those from my most treasured reviewer: Into the Firey Night. Shall I just say her reviews are the most rewarding, besides hermione snape's anyway. All of your reviews have been wonderful, of course, but I just have to say theirs inspire me beyond the norm. And it's for them, and all of you, that you have a right to know what's been going on.

Shall we just say that real life has caught up to me. From relationship complications to school to our very new and strenuous spring musical and to issues with the family and my religion… I'm almost (literally) clinically depressed. A psychiatrist told me that if I don't get my mind into better shape any time soon, the emotional part of my brain may become damaged. Honestly, I didn't even know that could happen.

These past few weeks have been very stressful, and I simply haven't found the time or the muse to write. While I'm not putting this story on hiatus - I love it and you all far too much for that - I still must give you fair warning. Updates will be very slow in the process and they'll come a lot less. I can only do my best to scrounge up muse for this FanFic, on top of all the other stories I'm trying to write and get published so my family doesn't go completely bankrupt and lose our home. Not to mention this week, my marching band is going to Orlando. My father and I have worked very hard for me to go on this trip, and I'm proud to say I'm going.

But I wanted you all to know what's been going on, and that updates for this story will be coming a lot less until I get my life in order. But I won't abandon it or you, I promise. Thank you for sticking with me. You have no idea how much your guys' loyalty means to me. That is, if you still want to stick with it. But thank you, and I promise I'll see you around sometime.

- Viv


	10. 08: Quidditch

Wow, you guys. I have so much apologizing to do. The issues I had to put this story on hiatus for went a lot longer than I thought they would, but once they went away, I never seemed to be able to find the muse to write this up. I kept getting reviews, and I'd get a little spur of inspiration, and quite honestly, that's what got me to finish this chapter. That, and also, I found my copy of the Prisoner of Azkaban, which I thought was lost for about a month so I didn't know how to continue because I wanted to keep the authenticity of the book around. So thank you all so much for your support, and I really hope to be updating on a semi-regular basis. This upcoming week is tech week for our spring musical, the Secret Garden, so probably no update this week or next week. But hopefully I'll get another chapter up as soon as possible.

Just remember that J.K Rowling is the wonderful creator of these books, and these characters. This chapter is pretty much all canon, so a lot of the dialogue is either copied or modified from the book, so know that some of the dialogue is not my own. It's J.K Rowling's wonderful writing. And this idea, as I've repeated, was inspired by hermione snape's _All For You_. If there's any spelling mistakes, I apologize, because I wanted to get this up for you guys ASAP. Thank you so much for your support, and I hope you enjoy the continuation of Daughter of the Moon!

**Chapter VIII**

Four Saturdays later, any student at Hogwarts could feel the excitement in the air. The first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was today, and everyone was waiting for a chance to relax as opposed to the panic that Sirius Black had brought to the castle.

"You're late!" Hermione exclaimed that morning as a recently showered Harry came trudging down the stairs into the Great Hall for breakfast. "You don't have long to eat breakfast before you have to go down to the pitch for warm-ups!" She was sporting her usual red and gold scarf to support the Gryffindor team, but she had created a magical sign that she had shrunk for the moment to fit in her bag. She guided her best friend to sit in between her and Ron, who was once again angry at her because Crookshanks had taken the liberty to chase his rat again this morning.

"I'll be fine, 'Mione. Just woke up a little late is all," came Harry's response as he dug into some bacon and eggs that were at the table.

"You can't afford to be late today, Harry. And don't eat that so fast! You'll get sick."

"Stop mothering him, Hermione," Ron snapped at her, glaring over Harry's head. "He can sleep in as late as he wants to. And he can eat as much as he wants to. He doesn't need your nosy head butting in."

"Well, excuse me, Ronald, I'm trying to help Harry as much as I can," Hermione sniffled, not ruffled by his comments in the slightest. "I want Gryffindor to _win_ today's match. The weather outside is dreadful, you know."

Ron had no argument there. It had been storming the past three days, but a storm was not enough to stop Quidditch even if it was enough to stop Muggle sports. Hermione wasn't exactly looking forward to standing out in the cold and rain, but she would do it to support Harry. She would have to charm her sign with a spell to make the sign waterproof in order to stand out in all that rain.

As she finished the last of her cinnamon toast, Hermione pulled out the shrunken sign. She didn't want anyone to see it yet, as she had spent a great deal of last night trying to make it, trying to hide it from Ron and Harry as they badgered her relentlessly what it was for…

"What have you got there, sweetling?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of her father. Though the relationship between her and Professor Lupin was confusing at best, the pair of them were trying. Trying to understand each other and trying to get to know one another better. Hermione, just this week, had also asked her father to assist her in DADA class by giving her extra lessons after suppers, and it was helping out their relationship a great deal.

"It's a secret," Hermione answered, looking up at him with a small smile.

Lupin chuckled, and gently patted her shoulder before continuing up to the staff table.

"How are things? With Lupin, I mean? You two seem less awkward around each other," Harry observed as he shoveled some more bacon into his mouth.

"Er, I suppose it's going better than I expected. He… he really isn't bad to be around. Sometimes he has the funniest stories to tell, and he's much easier to talk to than I imagined. He listens, and he cares for me," Hermione answered, looking down at the sign she clutched in her lap. It was strange, talking about Lupin to Harry and Ron. Well, perhaps not strange, but… it was different. She realized that she had almost never come to either of them when it came to these sorts of problems. She'd never spoken to them about anything so personal before.

Harry seemed to sense her hesitation. He patted her knee with a small smile that sent Hermione's heart a flutter. "You don't have to speak about it if you don't want to, Hermione."

"Yeah, we're a bit lacking when it comes to talk like that," Ron observed. Hermione looked at him, shocked that he would ever admit any faults about himself. Realizing what he had just said, Ron quickly recovered by saying, "Well, you're a girl, aren't you? You've got all that girly stuff to deal with."

Hermione only rolled her eyes in response to Ron's comment, and Harry let out a quiet chuckle before returning to his breakfast. After all, he had a Quidditch game to win.

As they finished up their food, Harry stood and stretched. "I've got to head down to the Pitch before Oliver has my head…"

"It's going to be a tough one, Potter." And just like that, practically the entire Quidditch team was standing behind him, waiting for him to finish up his breakfast. Wood was at their front, his expression stern and somber as if they'd already lost the game.

Alicia, one of the other Quidditch players, smiled and reminded him, "Stop worrying, Oliver. We don't mind a bit of rain."

Just like that, it was time to go down to the Quidditch Pitch. Hermione watched as Harry took a last bite of his food and stood up to brush himself off. She smiled up at him.

"Good luck today, Harry," she said. "Do your best."

Harry gave her a nervous smile before following his team out of the Great Hall. Hermione watched them go before pulling out the charmed sign again and pulled out a few writing utensils to add the last minute details. Ron constantly tried looking over her shoulder, but she always managed to keep him from finding out what it was, exactly. It wasn't that she didn't want Ron to know, she just didn't want anyone to know _yet_.

Just as she and Ron were getting ready to go, Lupin came down from the staff table. As he passed Hermione, he asked, "You wouldn't mind if I stood by you and Ron during the Quidditch match, would you? A staff member has to be present in each house at all times and I volunteered for Gryffindor."

"Of course not," Hermione replied. She glanced over at Ron, who was watching the pair of them curiously. "You can come stand by us if that's what you'd like."

Lupin smiled. "I'd like that very much. Thanks, sweetling." And just like that, he was out of the Great Hall.

"Come on, 'Mione. Best get bundled up," Ron said, almost gently. Hermione looked at him in surprise – for having been angry at her earlier, he was sure beginning to be a lot nicer now. The look on her face must have given it away. "I know it's probably hard, with Lupin and everything," he admitted sheepishly. "Thought I'd be nice, you know."

Hermione smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Ron. Let's go, or we'll be late for the match."

The weather was, as Hermione had predicted, absolutely dreadful. Gryffindor was hanging on to victory by fifty points, but the only way the match was going to end was if Harry could catch the Snitch. At this rate, it looked like everyone was going to miss lunch, and maybe even supper.

But Hermione didn't let this deter her. She continued to hold up the sign that, once the match had started, she had magically enlarged and made it waterproof so her artwork wouldn't get ruined.

The sign itself had a Snitch drawn on it – Hermione had borrowed Harry's book on Quidditch (that he'd gotten out from the library for at least the twentieth time) to create the sketch, and underneath she'd written in large letters 'Go Harry!'. She'd charmed the Snitch to fly around on the poster, but had been careful to make sure it didn't have a golden gleam like the real Snitch. She didn't want anyone flying into the stands thinking they'd win the game.

Lupin stood next to her and Ron, and his cloak was partially wrapped around Hermione as well in an attempt to keep her from getting any wetter in the rain than she already was. He'd said nothing the duration of the entire game – his eyes were instead wandering the field as if he was trying to seek out any danger. She wondered what had her father and professor so on guard, but she assumed it probably had something to do with Sirius Black. It seemed like he knew a lot about the subject, and maybe Hermione would ask him about it later.

Gryffindor was fifty points up within a half-hour, but still Harry hadn't caught the Snitch. Hermione truly felt sorry for him, because she knew it had to be horrible trying to see through all of this weather and rain and fog. And surely Harry couldn't have thought to…

Hermione's eyes brightened. Suddenly she knew that she could do something, maybe even to help Gryffindor win the game. Handing the sign hastily to Ron, who looked bewildered at her sudden movement, she skirted past her father and dashed down the stairwell to the field just as the whistle blew.

Gryffindor had called a timeout, and they were huddled under an umbrella very near to where the stairs let out onto the field. Wood looked frustrated, as did Harry, and as she neared them, she heard him saying,

"I've got no chances with these on." He was gesturing at his glasses.

She ran up to them, beaming, knowing that she had the solution. "I've got an idea, Harry!" she exclaimed. "Here, give me your glasses."

Harry looked just as surprised as the rest of the team, but he took of his glasses and handed them to her anyway. Pulling out her wand, Hermione gingerly took them and murmured, "_Impervius!_" It took a second for the spell to work. She handed Harry his glasses back. "There! Now they'll repel water, and you shouldn't have any more trouble seeing."

"Thanks, Hermione!" Harry grinned as he put his glasses back on, and he gave her a wet one-armed hug with a grin. "You saved me."

"Good luck!" Hermione debated kissing him on the cheek, but decided against it, and dashed away back to the Gryffindor staircase and made her way back up to the stands where Ron and Lupin were waiting for her, the pair of them looking very confused.

"What were you doing down there?" Ron asked as he handed her back the sign.

Hermione just smiled. "You'll see," was all she said. Lupin and Ron both looked like they wanted to ask more, but they kept their mouths shut and just turned back to watch the game as it started up again.

The game was getting more and more dangerous as time went on. Lightning was starting to flash and thunder rumbled above them, and both teams were fighting fiercely, and everyone wanted it to be over. Wherever Harry was, he needed to get the Snitch quickly so they could all go back to the warm Gryffindor Common Room and sit by the nice warm fire and sip hot cocoa.

Then, several things happened at once. Lupin seemed to stiffen, his eyes narrowing, lightning flashed, and suddenly that horrible feeling that Hermione had on the train returned. It started with the cold smell, and then the overpowering sensation that all the happiness was gone from the world and with it came a cold that was worse than the dead of winter. Hermione immediately recognized it. Dementors.

"'Mione!" Ron grabbed her arm to keep her from falling over. Lupin, realizing what was going on, wrapped his arms around his daughter and nodded at Ron in thanks.

"It's alright, sweet," he murmured as she turned into him in order to seek warmth. He felt as if he radiated safety – she felt like a puppy seeking protection. "Whatever it is, it's-"

"LOOK! IT'S HARRY!" Suddenly people around Hermione and Lupin were screaming.

In a panic, Hermione whipped her head around only to find a sight that was horrific. Her eyes widened and she froze in terror, seeing her best friend in the entire world tumbling to the ground like a rag doll, being blown about by the wind. He fell through what looked like a cloud of dementors (For Hermione, it was almost unbearable to see them all.) and looked as if he was going to come crashing to a grim death. Hermione stood there, petrified by the fear of Harry possibly dying…

But suddenly Dumbledore was on the Quidditch field, looking angrier than Hermione had ever seen him. He waved his wand at Harry, who seemed to stop mid-fall and gently went the last ten feet to the ground, where he lay still. Flashes of silver light erupted from Dumbledore's wand, and the dementors all seemed panicked by the action and fled faster than bats out of hell, which is very well what it looked like. The rain continued to pour down on the field, thunder rumbling and lightning flashing every which way.

Hermione barely heard the announcement that Diggory had caught the Snitch and that Hufflepuff had won as she scrambled down to the field where Harry lay with Ron and Lupin. Honestly, couldn't they worry about something else? A student was possibly… Harry might be…

She refused to think about it.

The Gryffindor team were all huddled around where Harry had fallen, and Dumbledore was standing with them as well. Madame Hooch attempted to stop the three from getting any closer but, furious, Dumbledore snapped, "Let them through." The Quidditch professor blanched and quickly motioned Lupin, Hermione, and Ron through.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione yelped, scrambling and pushing through the crowd of muddy Gryffindor team players as Ron followed her through the mess. He looked just as panicked as she was. By the time they reached where Harry was, they met no resistance from the players.

Harry was lying there in the mud, like a limp ragdoll, flat on his back almost like he was sleeping. He was motionless, and for a moment Hermione thought the worst. Warm, salty tears pricked at her eyes as a pain worse of that which came from the dementors pierced her heart, as she murmured, "Harry…?"

"He'll be alright. But he certainly needs rest." Dumbledore sounded grim and very controlled, almost as if he was attempting not to yell at anyone. His face was definitely contorted with fury – the dementors entering the field must have shocked and angered him. Hermione could see that he was absolutely irate with what had happened. "I will take him to the Hospital Wing, where he can heal under the watchful eye of Madame Pomfrey."

It took hours to get Harry to wake up after that. They proceeded to take Harry up to the castle, and by the time they'd gotten to the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey had already received news and had a bed waiting for him. She gave him a Revival Potion, but when that didn't wake him, she told them that they'd have to wait until he awoke.

When Harry finally opened his eyes, they were all still there waiting for him. Hermione was sitting at his bedside, and perked up the instant his eyes flickered open to that startling emerald green.

"Harry!" Fred was the first one who spoke. "How're you feeling?"

Harry sat up so fast that Hermione had to put a hand on his chest to steady him. "What happened?" he demanded of everyone.

"You fell off. Must've been… what? Fifty feet?" Fred looked around for clarification, but none gave it to him.

"We thought you'd died," Alicia Spinnet, one of the other members on the Gryffindor team, said with a shaky voice.

Hermione winced at the thought and let out a little whimper. To even think that Harry had died was horrible. Lupin, who was standing behind her with a hand on her shoulder, gave her a slight squeeze in comfort.

Harry didn't seem to care about that. "But the match," he said earnestly. "What happened? Are we going to have a rematch?" When nobody answered, horror dawned on Harry's face. "We… we didn't… _lose_, did we?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," George told him, avoiding eye contact. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize that had happened to you, but when he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off, wanted a rematch. But… but they won fair and square. Even Wood admitted it. He's still in the showers… we think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry winced and put his face against his knees, tugging at his messy black hair. Hermione watched as Fred put his hand on Harry's shoulder and shook him. "C'mon, Harry, you've never missed a Snitch before."

"There had to be at least one time you didn't get it," George supplied.

Fred and George continued to have a minute's conversation about Quidditch, but Hermione wasn't listening. Her eyes were focused on Harry, and how sick he looked that he'd missed catching the Snitch. She put a hand on his arm in an attempt to console him, because it was obvious to see how stricken he was about it. He didn't react, but he didn't shake her off either. She took that as a good sign, at least.

A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey heard the twins' bickering and ordered the team away. Before they left, Fred turned to say, "We'll come and see you later. Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

Hermione and Ron waited until the team had left and a disgruntled Madam Pomfrey shut the doors behind them to explain what had happened.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione began telling him at once. Harry turned a set of almost dead green eyes on her. The look on his face unnerved her, but she continued anyway. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before he let you onto the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors and sent them away with silvery things, and the dementors left right away…"

"Dumbledore used Patronuses, Hermione, I'd thought you know that," Lupin told her, surprised. Hermione flushed at being caught at not knowing something. Harry smiled and patted her hand that was still on her arm.

"So what about my Nimbus?" he asked. "Did someone get it?"

Hermione and Ron shared a look, and Hermione bit her lip.

"Er…" Ron began.

"What?" Harry looked between the two of them almost in a near panic.

"Well, when you fell off, it… it got blown away," Hermione told him hesitantly.

"And?"

"It hit, it hit – oh, Harry, I'm so sorry – it hit the Whomping Willow." Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth, feeling so guilty. She knew that Harry loved and took care of that broom more than anything.

The look on Harry's face only made her feel worse. "And… and what happened?"

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow." Ron, too, looked apologetic. "It doesn't like being hit."

Hermione sniffled. "Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," she murmured, reaching down to pull out the bundle of twigs that had become of Harry's beloved broomstick. Harry's face blanched, and he said nothing for nearly two hours.

* * *

EOC: There you are! I hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully more will be coming soon! Thank you all again so so much!


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